


Heart of the Dragon

by AJsRandom



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJsRandom/pseuds/AJsRandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how I see the story of Merlin's family- from his parents meeting, to him meeting his father and him asking his mother why she kept it from him. It'll be a trilogy, in 5 or so chapters with all that fun stuff families are made of- romance, drama, adventure, tragedy, and healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1-1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this trilogy in my head for and finally got the time to bang it out. Part 1 was partially inspired by We Loyal Traitors by jaqtkd- it's a fantastic story. Part 1 will be 3 chapters long; it just kind of blossomed that way. They will be long chapters, 6,000-7100 words or so. I apologize, but I didn't want to split it into more than 3 chapters. :) I hope you enjoy!

Part 1, Mother and Father

Balinor scanned the room over the rim of his tankard. Aside from a few sketchy-looking characters, most people there looked like what they actually were—common villagers. He'd learned to sit in a corner near the door, but never with his back to it. The position fit his relatively recent status as outlaw.

He never stayed more than a few days in any town or village. It was too easy to be recognized, even though he'd grown out his hair and beard. His life had always been somewhat transient, but this constant moving was wearing on him. Maybe Uther would regain his senses soon.

The tavern's door opened once again. A moderately well-groomed man stepped in, wearing the livery of Camelot—a scarlet tunic emblazoned with a gold dragon. The man closed the door and headed to the bar, probably to speak to the owner.

After a few hurried words with the man behind the bar, the man from Camelot turned around. He cleared his throat, and spoke up in a practiced voice: "People of Anged—I am looking for the man called Balinor. King Uther of Camelot wishes to speak with him on a matter of utmost importance."

After the messenger finished, he looked around at all the tavern patrons. The tavern patrons looked around at him and each other. No one moved. The messenger heaved a sigh and left the tavern without further comment.

Balinor finished his drink slowly, then stood up, tossed a few coins on the table and also exited the tavern. He knew the messenger from Camelot, and his escort, couldn't have gotten too far. That Pendragon red was visible a mile away. Stupid. He turned to his left and spotted three men in red a few hundred yards away. Easy.

He ran down the adjacent street, then down one parallel to the one the tavern fronted. Moving quickly, he glanced down each cross-street until he found the group in red. He ran to the cross-street ahead of them and down it until he reached the end. There he waited until they reached his field of vision. He called out, "Hey!"

The three men, walking their horses, stopped and looked his direction. "Were you talking to us?" the messenger asked.

"Yes. I heard you're looking for me."

"Balinor?"

"That's what they call me," he replied. He indicated for them to follow him down the street. "Come this way. I don't want any prying eyes." The three men followed him down the street, with their horses, until he stopped. He looked around for onlookers, then quickly held out both hands to the two guards and whispered, "Swefaþ."

The guards immediately dropped to the ground, while the messenger started backing away in terror. "Æstende," Balinor said, and the man stopped where he was. He discovered that he couldn't move any part of his body except his facial muscles.

"Now," said Balinor, "what does Uther want with me?"

"He wants to make peace with the dragons and the dragonlords. You're the only dragonlord we've managed to find."

"What does he want me to do?"

"I . . . I don't know. I think it may have something to do with the Great Dragon."

"What?"

"That's . . . That's all I know! I swear!"

"Fine. Drífe," Balinor muttered. The man stumbled backwards. "I'll go with you. Just . . . watch what you do." He looked at the guards on the ground and rolled his eyes. "Wæccaþ," he said. The two guards woke and glared up at him.

When everyone was upright, the messenger asked, "Do have belongings to gather before we leave?"

"Back at the inn."

The four men walked back the way they'd come, the three men from Camelot staying well behind the dragonlord. Balinor went inside while the others waited outside. When he emerged, he walked across the street to the stable and retrieved his horse.

After he'd attached his things to his saddle, he turned and looked at the other three men. "All right, let's get this over with."

All four men mounted their horses and nudged them forward beginning the one-day journey to Camelot. Though Balinor had no love for the magic-hating Uther, if he could help a dragon-brother, he'd do whatever it took.

.

The journey to Camelot was uneventful. The three men from Camelot kept to themselves, darting suspicious glares at Balinor now and then. They didn't speak to him any more than they had to. He was content to ride behind them, thinking about nothing in particular.

When they reached a certain hilltop, the three men from Camelot sighed in relief. As Balinor reached them, he saw the white stone walls of Camelot not too far off. He hadn't been here since magic was welcomed in the great city. Now the city felt dull, like the life had gone out of it. It had only taken one lost life to start the dullness; since then, many more had gone and left this pale imitation of Camelot.

They rode down the hill and into the lower town. People looked and acted normally, but if one examined closely, they could see haunted eyes and tight mouths. Signs of fear.

The four rode into the main square, where servants arrived to take the horses. When Balinor looked up, he saw the King descending the steps into the square. Uther stepped forward to greet him. "Ah, Balinor, I presume?"

"You presume correctly," Balinor replied. He studied the King. Uther seemed comfortably into his thirties, about a decade older than himself. Uther's brown hair was on its way to thinning, but in his blue eyes, Balinor could see several conflicting emotions—grief, anger and fear. But the King had tight control on his emotions. He gave Balinor a smile.

"Shall we go inside and dine? You must be ready for a meal by now."

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Balinor followed the King, who was flanked by a few knights, into the castle.

They walked down a few corridors and came to a formal dining room. The knights bowed and left as the King entered the room. There were two other men in the room, maybe a decade or so older than Uther. The King walked toward them and said, "Ah Gaius, Geoffrey. This is Balinor, the dragonlord who is going to help us. Balinor, this is my Court Physician, Gaius and my Court Librarian, Geoffrey."

Balinor shook their offered hands. "A pleasure."

"Come, let us sit down to dinner," Uther stated.

Everyone sat around the table and the King began some small talk. From this Balinor learned several small things about his fellow diners. Uther didn't spend much time with his infant son. Gaius appeared to support Uther's stance on magic, but in a more reserved manner. Geoffrey didn't get to socialize much since accepting his appointment. These were all interesting bits, but they didn't tell him what he really wanted to know.

When Uther was nearly finished, Balinor decided to push the issue. "Your Majesty. Thank you for your hospitality so far. But I need to know why you've asked me here."

"Ah, yes. That would only be polite." Uther motioned to the attending servants to take their plates. "I have a message to convey to the Great Dragon, and naturally I cannot summon him in order to do this."

"What is it you want to say?"

"I understand he is . . . upset at all the recent dragon . . . deaths. He blames me for those deaths. I wish to soothe him, to make peace with him, if you will. I want to assure him that I'm not responsible for the deaths and do all in my power to stop them, if I can."

"I see." Balinor was very skeptical. He had felt some of these deaths and lost contact with many of his fellow dragonlords. Was this why? Had Uther extended his persecution of magical beings to dragons and dragonlords even though their magic was quite different? Maybe so, but if he had, it wasn't like Uther would tell the truth about it.

"So, will you help me?" Uther asked. He appeared genuinely concerned with the dragons' plight.

"I don't understand. I have magic, and you still asked me here to help you? Won't you execute me when I'm done? What's in it for me?"

Uther looked a little sick at this. "No, I have no wish to execute you. Your magic is different; you and your kin keep to yourselves, not causing any trouble. You will be paid for your time then be free to go."

"All right. I don't want your money though. I do this for Kilgharrah." He paused a moment to think. "When do you want to do this?"

"Tomorrow morning is early enough. You must be tired from your journey, and I imagine you don't get to sleep in a bed that often." Balinor nodded. "Good. I've had a chamber prepared for you. Breakfast will be delivered to you, and I'll summon you when I'm ready."

"That's acceptable. If you don't mind, I'd like to retire immediately. I am rather tired."

"Of course." The King summoned a servant to convey Balinor to his chambers. He was bid good night and escorted to his room.

.

In the morning, Balinor was woken by a knock at the door. When he called out, "Enter," a servant appeared with a tray of food and walked to the table to set it down. It was filled with very generous portions.

"Is there anything else you need, My Lord?" the servant asked.

"I'm not anyone's 'Lord,'" Balinor grumbled. When the servant looked taken aback, he sighed and said, "No, thank you." The servant left the room.

He got out of bed and dressed quickly. He quickly devoured much of what was on the tray. A few minutes after he finished, another knock sounded at the door. He again called out, "Enter."

A young page appeared. "My Lord, the King requests your presence in the throne room."

Balinor stopped him before he could leave. "Would you take me there please? I don't know my way around."

"Of course," the page replied, and they set off for the throne room.

Once there, he saw the king conversing with a few of his knights and advisors. "Ah Balinor, here you are."

"Yes. Where are we to do this?"

"I've set up a safe place under the castle." He paused when he saw Balinor's skeptical face. "Don't worry—the dragon will be able to fly in, move around and fly out in complete comfort. I just don't wish to frighten any of my townspeople."

"Of course," Balinor replied drily.

"If you'll follow me?" Uther started walking toward the door, a handful of knights accompanying him.

Balinor followed the King as he walked to a staircase going down. They walked through the dungeons then to a door. Once opened, it led to a rougher set of stairs that were carved into the rock. They descended these and went through an open door that led onto a landing. It looked out into a massive cave system. Balinor could tell that Kilgharrah would have no trouble flying through this place.

"Here we are," Uther said once they stopped. "You see that outcropping there?" He pointed to a large rock directly in front of them. "The dragon—"

"Kilgharrah," Balinor interrupted.

"Kilgharrah, then, can perch there while we converse. Will that work?"

"It'll be fine."

"Well then, please summon him."

Balinor nodded and lifted his head to call in the dragon tongue, "Dragon Kilgharrah, I summon thee to this place, to converse with myself and another. Please, oh mighty dragon, grant us this favor." In his mind he heard Kilgharrah roar in response. He looked at the King, who appeared a little intimidated. "He should be here soon."

He glanced at the knights behind them. They had backed to the cave wall and looked fairly anxious. That was pretty common among those who'd never heard the dragon tongue spoken. He smiled; then he felt Kilgharrah's presence brush against his mind, questioning his location. He sent a reassuring thought back his way, confirming his underground location.

Within seconds, the men heard the sound of mighty wings beating the air, echoing around the cavern. Uther and his knights stepped backward as the Great Dragon flew into view and landed on the rock Uther had indicated. Their eyes widened in shock and awe, but they didn't move or say anything.

"Why have you summoned me here?" Kilgharrah asked in his deep, gravelly voice.

"Kilgharrah, King Uther wishes to speak with you. I've volunteered to be your intermediary. Will you speak with him?" Balinor asked.

"Uther?! That man has murdered many of our kin, Balinor!" Kilgharrah opened his mouth to spout fire at the King.

"Scildaþ!" Balinor yelled, and Kilgharrah's fire hit what appeared to be an invisible wall. Kilgharrah broke off his attack with a roar. "Kilgharrah, DO NOT attack the King," he ordered. Kilgharrah's roar broke off with a kind of choking sound. "Now, are you ready to listen?" Balinor took the dragon's silence as an assent. "All right. King Uther assures me he did not murder our kin, and has pledged his help in finding the true perpetrators."

"He's lying," Kilgharrah spat. "Have you not felt their deaths? Not only are many dragons gone, but dragonlords as well."

"I have not been as . . . connected as I should."

"The lying, hypocritical King has only told you what he wanted you to hear. We have been deceived!"

"Kilgharrah—" Balinor started, but he was cut off by an ominous sound, a clink of heavy metal on metal and an earsplitting roar of anger shook the cavern.

"I'm afraid he's right," a cold voice said behind him. Before Balinor could turn to look, hands restrained him—his mouth and arms. He was turned forcibly to look at Uther. "I have been murdering dragons and their dragonlords. All of you wield too much magical power to exist. Even now my knights are slaying the few remaining dragons, and within a few hours, every last dragonlord will be dead. This dragon will live as a reminder of my triumph over magic." Uther turned away and gave one last order to his knights before leaving the cavern, "Kill him."

Kilgharrah still roared and struggled against the restraint clamped around his leg. He breathed fire on it, but still it remained. Balinor could feel the magic Kilgharrah tried to cast at the offending metal, but it went nowhere. The magic didn't leave his body; something—probably the metal –restrained it. The dragon roared in even more frustration. "I'm sorry, my brother," Balinor thought to his kin, but Kilgharrah was too deep in his rage to respond.

Balinor struggled against the restraining hands. The knight who was not restraining him drew his sword, an apology in his eyes. He moved closer, sword at the ready. Camelot's knights may fight with honor, but Balinor wasn't bound by their code. He bit down hard on the hand over his mouth, and it was drawn immediately away with a cry of pain. With an apology in his eyes, Balinor raised his hands as far as he could and yelled out, "Forþ fleoge!"

Every knight in the cavern with him flew away from Balinor. Most hit the cave wall, but at least one went soaring over the edge of the precipice with a strangled cry.

The dragonlord wasted no time. He faced the door Uther had closed behind him and yelled, "Astrice!" It flew against the wall behind it and Balinor ran up the steps. When he reached the entryway, he found a couple of knights waiting for him. One slashed at his thigh, giving him a deep cut. He managed to dodge the other and shoved him into the one that had injured him.

Now limping, he ran up the stairs leading to the dungeons and stopped, realizing he had no idea which way to go. Fortunately a voice called out to him just then. "Balinor!"

He quickly turned and hobbled in the direction of the voice, around a corner to his right. There he found Gaius, the court physician. "We must get you out of here immediately!" he whispered. Then he looked down at Balinor's leg. "You're wounded! And it's deep. But we have no time to loiter." He reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a square of cloth. "It's not sterile, but it'll have to do." He carefully knelt down and wrapped the makeshift bandage around the wound. Then he stood and wrapped an arm around Balinor's shoulder to support him. "Ready?"

"Oh, I'm beyond ready," the dragonlord replied. With Gaius's help, he was able to hobble faster.

"I know of a secret way out, through the armory. It's not far." They hobbled a bit further, then Gaius said, "I have a niece. Hunith. She lives in a small village almost due east of Camelot. She has helped me hide friends in the past few months. She's also fairly good at herb lore, so she can heal your wound. The name of the village is Ealdor. It lies just over the border in Essetir. Travel east through the forest of Ascetir and skirt north of the ridge."

Just then they made it to what was definitely an armory. "Wait a moment," Balinor said, and grabbed a sword lying on a rack. "All right." They continued to a wall in the back.

Gaius moved aside an ornate shield to reveal a crawlspace leading to a tunnel. "Follow the tunnel to the end. There's a metal grate there that you can remove easily enough." He smiled, then continued. "I left a horse tethered to a tree outside. I've tied a satchel with provisions to the saddle. No medical supplies though, I'm afraid."

"Why are you helping me? Aren't you loyal to Uther?"

"Yes. Before the Purge I practiced magic. But to save my own life, I took an oath to never use it again. I turned my back on so many of my kin . . . but now I'm saving what few I can without raising suspicion. I hope this will help me forgive myself someday."

At that moment, they heard the cries of about a dozen men. Physically, the sound was faint. Mentally, it nearly knocked the two men over. "What was that?" Balinor asked.

Gaius looked horrified. "I was hoping to get you out before that happened," he said.

Balinor grabbed Gaius by the front of his robes. "Gaius, what was that?!"

Gaius's eyes teared up. "Uther gathered every last dragonlord he could find and held them in the dungeons. Once he had you, he'd planned a public execution for you all—in front of a firing squad."

"NO!" Balinor yelled, and attempted to get past Gaius.

"Please, you must go. You're the last dragonlord now. I couldn't save them, but I can save you. Please, go now."

Balinor wanted to scream, to yell at the sky until it fell. Tear Camelot apart one block at a time so that Uther would hurt as much as he did. In a shaky voice he said, "One day Uther will suffer as much as I have this day. And the guilt will eventually tear him apart."

Gaius nodded, then helped Balinor lift himself up into the passage. He watched Balinor crawl through and fall down safely on the other side. Balinor turned back to face him, and Gaius said, "May the Gods preserve your life."

"And yours, Gaius," Balinor said, and disappeared from view.

Gaius let the shield fall back into place and walked slowly back to his chambers to mourn in secret. Hopefully Hunith would be able to heal Balinor before he succumbed to infection.

Balinor continued to the end of the tunnel and found the metal grate. Locked, of course. "Tospringe," he whispered, and the grate not only unlocked but broke loose from the mortar. Oh well.

He saw the horse tethered to the tree and ran to it. After he checked to make sure everything was secure, he untied it and got on. As he nudged it into motion, he heard a yell from the parapet above him, "Hey! You there—stop!" He immediately kicked the horse into as close to a gallop as he could get on the hilly terrain. The cover of the forest was more than a hundred yards away.

While the horse took him away from the ramparts, he could still hear shouting behind him. Uther must have discovered he'd escaped, which meant more men were coming after him. He had to find some way to lose them in the forest.

He was almost there when he heard a whistle and felt something sharp pierce his left shoulder blade. Archers, great. There was no way he'd be able to remove the arrow while riding—he needed his good arm to hold the reins since his left was now useless.

After he made it to the woods, he guided the horse eastward as well as he could. There was no road or even trail for him to follow. Every motion jostled his wounds, which hurt like mad. The one on his leg had started to bleed through its makeshift bandage. He had to stop soon and do something about them or he could bleed out. He began looking for possible shelters.

Another hour or so later, after he'd heard all signs of pursuit cease, he found a tree growing partly on the top and partly down the side of a hill. The roots down the side made a sort of cave, which was further sheltered by other bushes. He dismounted, taking the satchel off the saddle. When he'd tethered the horse under the roots, he limped in himself.

He sat down heavily and opened the satchel. A water skin was on top; that was a relief. After he drank deeply, he ripped a strip off the bottom of his shirt. He reached back carefully with his good hand to feel the shoulder wound and arrow. It seemed like it would be okay to pull out instead of through. So he wrapped his hand around the arrow's shaft and pulled.

Sharp, tearing agony went through him and he nearly screamed. The arrow was barbed and had widened the existing wound on its way out. When he could breathe normally, he brought the arrow up to his eyes and examined the barbs. He quickly dropped the arrow and reached back to press the bit of shirt to the wound. It would take more than this to stop the bleeding, and his knowledge of healing spells was sketchy at best.

After thinking for a few minutes, he finally thought of a spell and hoped he had enough power to use it. "Wel cene hole," he whispered. He removed the cloth and felt around; the bleeding had stopped, but the wound was only thinly healed. Any sudden moves and it would tear open.

He turned his attention to the leg wound. After he ripped a bit more of his shirt off, he unwrapped the cut. It was bleeding again, welling up and spilling over his leg. He could try the same healing spell, but it probably wouldn't work as well. Maybe stop the bleeding. He repeated the spell and the bleeding stopped. A thin skin grew over it, but not all the way. He sighed and wet the bit of shirt he'd just torn and started cleaning the blood off. To bind that wound, he tore a bit from the back of his shirt. If this kept up, he'd have no shirt left. He wrapped the strip around the wound and tied it off.

That being done, he rinsed off his hands and turned back to the satchel, seeking food. He found dried strips of meat, bread, cheese, and a few apples. Enough to get him through two days or so. After he ate a bit of each, enough to satisfy, he pulled out a blanket from the satchel. He rolled himself up in it, and even though it was still early afternoon, went to sleep.

.

Balinor woke after dark, which was just as well. Anyone searching for him would be less likely to search at night. Navigating in the dark would be harder, but the moon was nearing full and he could always conjure a light if needed. He packed up his bag and led the horse out.

He looked around the bit of forest he was in, and found a willow tree. Using a knife he'd found in the bag, he cut off a bit of bark. From that bit, he ripped a piece off and popped it into his mouth. That should relieve a bit of the pain for a while. He got on his horse and nudged it into a walk.

The night wore on. The horse picked its way through the woods while Balinor checked the moon often to make sure he was still headed east. When the moon fell behind the trees, he called out, "Leóhtfæt," and sent the light to hover in front of the horse at its speed. Keeping the complex spell going was tiring, but dawn wasn't far off and he'd find another place to hole up and rest.

Not much later, he discovered a road going east. He stayed under cover of the forest and followed the road until dawn lit the sky. Balinor was feeling quite faint by then and fortunately found a small cave not too far from the road. After eating a few bites of food, he rolled up in his blanket and slept again.

When he woke next, the sun was midway in the sky. With any luck, he'd find Ealdor before dark. He undid the bandage around his thigh to check it—it had bled only a little more, but was starting to look a bit inflamed around the edges. Infection. He ate a bit of lunch then ripped off another bit of willow bark to chew. That wouldn't cure the infection but he didn't have time to search for honey.

He got back on his horse and again rode off opposite the sun's course. The willow bark helped for a few hours, but he could feel a fever building slowly. He leaned on the horse's neck and contemplated lashing himself into the saddle. Eventually he ruled it out—he didn't have any rope.

Night fell and still he pressed onward. The willow bark took the edge off the fever, but not for long. It raged and Balinor felt dizzy. He looked up from the horse's neck and thought he saw smoke and trees thinning in the distance, but that could just be a hallucination. He leaned over again and decided to close his eyes momentarily.

He didn't feel himself relax and slide off the horse. He landed on the ground heavily, but was too delirious to notice. The horse continued walking; he had sensed civilization ahead. He walked through the woods, which had thinned, and onto the main road of the tiny village known as Ealdor.

.

Hunith was on her way home from her friend Sarah's house. Sarah was married a year ago, and their first child would be born within the next few weeks. Hunith hummed tunelessly, but broke off when she saw a strange horse emerge from the woods. It stopped in the middle of the road and looked at her expectantly.

She slowly walked forward and reached out to pet (she took a quick peek) his nose. "Hello, boy," she said soothingly, "where did you come from?" Glancing at its back, she noticed the fine but worn saddle, with a satchel attached. "Well, you belong to someone; let's see who."

Keeping a hand on his nose, she moved back to unfasten the satchel. Inside she found bits of food, a dirty blanket, a water skin, and bloody bits of fabric. Whoever this horse belonged to was injured and missing. "Come on boy, let's find your rider."

She took the horse's reins and followed the disturbed bushes into the trees. It didn't take long to find the rider; he was sprawled on the forest floor, on his back. She let go of the reins and ran over to him, setting her lantern on the floor.

His bearded face was flushed and very warm to the touch—a raging fever. But what caused it? She scanned his body and found the bandage around his thigh. She rolled him onto his right shoulder and saw the unbandaged wound on his left shoulder. It looked like it had healed somewhat, but it was mostly opened now and showed clear signs of infection. She had to get him to her home and treat him right away. But first she needed help to get him there.

Gradually she rolled him to his back again, and the movement must have pained him. He half-opened his eyes, which were glazed, and focused on her. "Ealdor?" he whispered through dried lips.

She recovered from her shock long enough to say, "Yes, you're in Ealdor."

"Made it," he whispered. "Need to find . . . Hunith?"

This was getting kind of spooky. "I'm Hunith."

"Good. Help . . . please." He sighed then passed out. Time to get help.

She jumped up and tied the horse's reins to a tree. Then she dashed through the trees and back to Sarah's house. Sarah's husband, William answered the door. After she explained the situation to him, he ran with her back to the injured man.

"Whoa," William said, "he's in a bad way." He knelt down to get a grip on the injured man, and lifted him a bit before he had to put him back down. "He's too heavy to lift by myself, but maybe if you help we can drape him over the horse."

"All right," Hunith replied and moved to the injured man's feet.

"Okay, now, lift!" They lifted him simultaneously. As they walked closer to the horse, Hunith gradually shifted her hold on the man so she could help William lift his torso up and over the horse's back.

"Ugh," she said when they'd finally managed to get him on the horse. "Thanks William. Of course, we'll need to get him off too."

William groaned. "Great. Well, let's get it over with."

Hunith untied the horse and led it out of the woods while William kept a hand on the man to keep him in place. Luckily they made it to her small home without any incident. Getting him off the horse was a chore—they nearly dropped him twice, but gradually got him onto Hunith's bed. They stood to the side, panting to catch their breath. "Thanks again, William," Hunith said when she could manage it.

"Anytime," he replied. "Good luck with this one. Let us know if you need anything," he said as he left through the door, taking the horse with him. He'd volunteered to take care of it for the time being.

She sighed and wiped her forehead. Then she took off her headscarf, gathered her loose hair, and carefully rearranged the headscarf over it. She'd be working on this poor man for a while.

It would probably be best to work on the back first, she decided. She was especially grateful her parents had passed on their knowledge of herbs before they died two years ago. Her Uncle Gaius had also helped teach her when he visited from Camelot.

Carefully she rolled the injured man over to lay on his front. It was good he was unconscious, because this wouldn't be comfortable. She cut through his shirt with shears, then dipped a rag in boiled water she kept around. When the area around the wound was clean, she dabbed it with a witch hazel solution. Then she spread some comfrey-thyme salve over it and picked up her needle and thread to sew the wound shut. It wasn't long, but it was wide, like whatever had pierced the skin tore it more on its way out. She covered it with small piece of clean, folded cloth, and wound a long piece over it and around his chest a couple of times to secure it.

When she finished that, she rolled him back over to check the thigh wound. She used the shears again to cut off the old bandage and his pants leg above the wound so they wouldn't get in her way. She used another rag and a different bowl of water to clean this wound. It looked like a sword had cut into him edge on. It was deeper and more infected than the other wound. She used the witch hazel again, followed by the salve. This one would take a while to sew, so she got to work. The poor man would be laid up for a few weeks before he'd be able to walk again.

After she finished sewing, she folded a longer bit of cloth to put over the wound, and wound another long piece over and around that to keep it in place. The man looked a bit more relaxed, but when she felt his face it was still very hot.

She picked up another rag and bowl of water to clean his face. Once the dirt and sweat were gone, she could see that he was quite handsome. But she cast that thought aside and dipped a cloth in clean water and lay it across his forehead. Then she went to the fire to start another pot of water boiling. She moved to her table to find her aspen and willow tree bark. Once the water boiled, she put the aspen and willow bark into the pot to steep for a few minutes. Both ingredients would reduce the fever and any pain he felt.

While the tea brewed, she went back over to the injured man. She took off his boots and socks, and then the shirt, which had been ruined before she'd gotten to it. Then she picked up another cloth and began to clean his torso. There were a few more scars there and on his back than a simple villager would have. Whoever this man was, he'd had a hard life.

At that point, she went back to the pot and removed it from the fire to let the liquid inside cool. The tea would help whether cool or hot, and since he was unconscious, cool would be best. She put an extra blanket over the sleeping man and arranged a couple more on a woven mat on the floor. Then she found a bit of bread and cheese to eat for a late dinner.

After she finished eating, she got up to check the tea. It had cooled enough to drink, so she retrieved a ladle and a cup. She strained the tea with a piece of cloth over the cup then stirred in a spoonful of honey. She propped the man up with a couple pillows and tipped the liquid slowly into his mouth. When that was done, she took the cloth from his forehead, dipped it in water, wrung it, and put it back on his head. Exhausted, she put out the candles and went to bed.


	2. Part 1-2

Hunith woke a little later in the morning than she usually did. She got up and went immediately to check on the injured man. His face was still a bit flushed, but the fever had gone down some. After she made another cupful of tea, she fed it to him the same way as the previous night. The wounds hadn't bled through the bandages, so she wouldn't have to change them yet. There was no way of knowing when he'd wake up, so she changed the cloth on his forehead and turned her attention to herself.

She changed her clothes and had a bit of breakfast, then went to work tidying her small house. Her parents hadn't left her much, but at least she had a home and essential furnishings within it. She even had a part-time profession of sorts, helping with medical issues when she could. Dreams of a family of her own surfaced now and then, but she was very busy and there was a distinct lack of single men in the village. Most had been involuntarily conscripted into the king's army.

Throughout the day, people dropped by for her help or to chat. When Sarah visited, she offered to watch the injured man for a while so Hunith could go out. Her garden needed tending and she enjoyed the bit of sunshine and fresh air.

When night fell, Hunith was inside eating some stew she'd made. Being homebound most of the day had given her the time to put it together. After she finished, she checked the man's wounds by removing the bandages. The redness of the infection had decreased quite a bit and there wasn't a lot of blood on the bandages. She cleaned the wounds with witch hazel again and reapplied the salve and clean bandages. The fever had also gone down quite a bit. He was sweating quite a bit too, which was good. Hopefully the fever would break soon.

She sat next to him and examined him for a bit. He looked about her age, but seemed much older. His scars and calloused hands attested to his hard life. When he'd woken briefly, he'd asked if he was in Ealdor. Why had he come here? It looked like his wounds had been self-treated, and in a hurry. Was he running from someone or something? She yawned—clearly it was time for bed.

In the morning, Hunith was woken by the sound of someone mumbling. She jumped out of her blankets and ran over to the bed. The man's eyes were open, and when he saw her, he spoke clearly, "Where am I?"

Her mouth fell open, but she managed to say, "The village of Ealdor in the kingdom of Essetir."

His eyes widened a bit. "Then I made it. Good. I need to find someone here. Her name is Hunith."

"That's my name," she said, "you're in my home."

"Oh, well that's fortuitous. I was told to find you, and that you could help me."

"What do I call you? Did someone send you to me?"

"Oh. My name is Balinor. A man named Gaius told me to come here and find you. He said you helped people like me."

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Oh. You came from Camelot then."

"Yes, I seem to have worn out my welcome there." He tried to sit up, but winced and fell back down when he tried to put weight on his left arm. "Oh yeah. I'm wounded."

"Quite badly, I'm afraid. You've been asleep for at least a day and a half. What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Uther," he spat out. "He summoned me to Camelot, asked me for help then stabbed me and my kin in the back. The wounds are parting gifts from his soldiers."

"I'm so sorry," she replied. "Of course I'll help you. You can stay here until you heal, and I can help you find a place to hide after that, if you wish."

"Thank you. I take it you're responsible for finding and treating me?"

"Yes, I found you on the ground a little way into the forest. I think you fell off your horse—I saw him come out of the woods and followed his path back to you."

"Thanks again. Is my horse all right?"

"He's fine. A friend of mine is caring for him."

"It seems I'm greatly indebted to you Hunith."

"Think nothing of it." She frowned for a moment. "I need to check your wounds; can I roll you over?"

"Yes, let me . . . ah!"

"Let me help. Apparently it still hurts."

"Yeah," he gasped as they worked together to roll him over.

She lifted the bandage to check the shoulder wound. "Was this one caused by an arrow?"

"Good guess. It was barbed, hurt more coming out than going in."

"I can imagine. It looks a lot better. Signs of infection have almost disappeared and it's scabbing over."

"That's good." They worked together again to roll him to his back.

"And now your leg." She had to loosen the bandage; this wound looked much the same as the other. "This one's healing well too." She took the cloth from his forehead and felt his face. "Your fever's gone; it must have broken in the night."

"It's all down to you, Hunith. I feel much better than I did two days ago."

"Good. Do you feel like eating anything? I've been giving you some tea to reduce your fever, but you're probably hungry for more. I can make some broth."

"That sounds good." He lifted the blanket and looked himself over. One of his pant legs had been significantly shortened. And most of him was still dirty, not to mention sticky with sweat. "Would it be possible to clean myself up?"

"Oh." She blushed. "Yes, although you shouldn't submerge in water. I have water, soap and cloth and can help you with wiping yourself down. I can go outside if you want to preserve your modesty."

"Umm . . ." he started to blush now. "I guess that would be fine. You can go out when I get to . . . um, yeah."

"Okay. Food first." She warmed up and sweetened a bit of the tea, and gave it to him. He grimaced at the taste. "Sorry. It is better with the honey though. Trust me." Then she got to work on a vegetable broth; she didn't have any meat and couldn't leave to find any.

While the broth boiled and simmered, he shared more information about himself. Hunith learned that Balinor had lived mostly in the west and had traveled a lot. He told her about being a dragonlord—caring for dragons, learning from them and more. He also explained how he'd been hiding since Uther had started his purge; he also had some magic in addition to that he'd inherited. In the process, he explained more of how he'd gone to Camelot as a guest and left as the last remaining dragonlord.

Hunith was beyond appalled. She'd heard of Uther's war on magic, but had no idea he'd extended his hatred to magical creatures and those who cared for them. She'd never seen a dragon, and now she probably never would. Any kind of genocide was unconscionable, but these beautiful magical creatures and their caretakers didn't deserve murder. They harmed no one. "I—I don't even know what to say. I am so sorry for what he did to you and your kin. What would drive a man to such depraved, evil acts?"

"I don't know. This all started when his wife died, but that's surely not the real excuse. There must be something else to it." Then his eyes seemed to catch fire, "I hope he rots in hell for his atrocities. If I had the chance, I'd send him there myself."

She reached out a hand to his. "I'm not defending him, but wouldn't murdering him make you no better than him?" Balinor started to open his mouth, but she stopped him, "Someday he'll pay for his evil, I know it. But brooding about it will not help you heal." She paused. "Let me see about that broth."

He was calmed by her words and her touch. And that astonished him. Once he got angry, it usually took him much longer to cool off. This kind woman had managed to do it in about a minute.

Hunith came back to him with a cup of broth. "It's still hot, but we can talk more as it cools."

"Thank you," he replied. Somehow she understood he was thanking her for more than the broth. Then he said, "I've talked enough about myself; I want to hear about your life."

"Oh, there's not much to know about me," she replied.

"I don't believe that. You seem awfully young to have such knowledge of healing."

"My parents were masters of herb lore. I spent much of my childhood out in the woods and fields learning how to identify various plants and learning what they did. We also had, um, have a garden and grow many."

"That's impressive. Where are your parents? Do they live elsewhere?"

Her face fell. "A terrible fever came through here two years ago. They were older, so when they caught it, it affected them severely. They didn't suffer long."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It seems like they left you a wonderful legacy though."

"Yes. I can treat many ailments now. It keeps me occupied."

"Yeah, I'm a lot of trouble."

"Oh no, I didn't mean you," she blushed.

"I know." He smiled at her.

"Well at least I have a kind-of profession. And they left me this home and everything in it."

"Then you are truly blessed." He let out a huge yawn.

Oh dear," she said, "I've kept you awake too long. You still need a lot of rest." She handed him the cup of cooled broth. "Drink this, then rest. You can bathe after you sleep," she said, cutting him off again. She'd seen that he was about to protest. "I have so many herbs perfuming this place that I couldn't smell you even if you did reek." She smiled.

"Yes mum," he replied, and drank his broth while she dampened his forehead cloth again. Then she took the cloth and helped him lay down.

"Now rest. If you wake and I'm not here, don't fret. I won't be far away and I won't stay out long." She smiled as his eyes drifted shut.

.

While Balinor slept, Hunith went to visit Sarah. It seemed her baby was firmly entrenched and had no desire to make his or her appearance any time soon. They chatted and laughed about that for a few minutes. Then Sarah got a sly look in her eyes. "So, how's your mystery patient?"

"Oh, well, he woke up this morning," Hunith replied.

"That's great! How is he?"

"His fever broke and the infection's almost gone."

"Good news, but that's not what I was asking."

"Then what—"

"Oh come on, Hunith. You have a handsome mystery man in your home—your bed even. What's he like?"

"Oh. Well, we talked for a while." She thought for a moment; Balinor was a man in hiding. He didn't need his identity bandied about. She wasn't a big fan of lying, but she couldn't tell the truth. "His name's Robert. He was on his way home, on the coast, when he was attacked by bandits. He did what he could with his wounds, but was far from any place. So he rode as far as he could and got so delirious from the fever he fell off his horse."

"The poor man! Is he married?"

"Sarah!" She glared at her friend. "We didn't talk about that kind of thing. Anyway, as soon as he's able to move around he'll have to stay somewhere else. Or it won't be proper."

"All right, I get the hint. Just don't wear yourself out, okay?"

"Yeah. But now I've got a date with a chicken. Bye Sarah!" With that, she left, her puzzled friend staring after her.

.

Hunith took her butchered chicken back to her home. She'd decided her vegetable broth could use the flavor, and it would make a few meals nicer. Balinor was still sleeping when she got back, so she went ahead and cut up the chicken after she's put the broth back over the fire. When it boiled, she put the chicken in and went outside to pick fresh sage and thyme from her garden.

As she came back inside, she heard, "Hello again." She jumped and turned toward the bed. Balinor was awake.

"You startled me!" she said, and gave him a mock glare.

"Sorry ma'am," he replied, looking appropriately contrite.

"No serious harm done. I was outside picking herbs. I acquired some chicken to add to the broth. A little more substance and nutrition for you."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. After I get that going we can take care of your bath. Sorry about your clothes. I have some of my father's clothing still; it should fit you well enough."

"No worries."

Hunith got the chicken into the pot and got some water warming for the "bath." She went to his bedside, and they chatted a bit more. "How are you feeling?"

"Not feverish at all. Of course the leg and shoulder hurt. Mostly I feel grungy. It's been a long time since I had any kind of bath, so this will feel good."

"Do I need to bind your arm to your body so you can't move it?" She said, half-teasing.

Balinor gave her an astonished look. "No?" he replied, and she giggled.

"All right, just don't use that arm then." She winked, then got up to fetch the warmed water and clothes she'd found earlier.

Hunith brought the water over and found the soap and washcloth. She helped Balinor out of bed and sat him facing the back of the chair. Then she lathered the cloth with soap and handed it over to him so he could wash what he could reach. She helped him with what he couldn't reach then went outside so he could wash what she wouldn't. When he called out, she came back inside to find him dressed except for the shirt.

"I don't seem to be able to manage the shirt," he told her. "And I wanted to wash my hair, if possible."

"I think we can work that out," she replied. She took the cloth and dipped it into the water, then wrung it out over his head until his hair was soaked through. Then she lathered the soap in her hands and ran her hands through his hair, repeating that until his hair was soapy enough that she could work it through his hair. She massaged his scalp a bit as she worked the soap through.

"That feels really nice," he commented. "You've done this before."

"I've tended a lot of children in my time," she replied. When she deemed his hair clean, she rinsed it in the same manner that she'd soaked it. "Do you think you can you manage a comb?"

"Maybe." She handed him a comb, and he made a few passes with it before it fell out of his hand. He sighed. "Apparently not."

She picked up the comb and worked it through his hair. "There you go."

He gave her a baleful look. "I should be able to do that."

"Don't worry about it." She then helped him put the shirt on. It was a slow process, but they got it done. "Now, I should wash the blankets and sheets you've been using. Clean bodies don't go on dirty bedding." She helped him up and over to a chair by the fire.

"Thank you Hunith. I know I must be taking you from things you'd rather be doing or people you'd rather be with."

She flushed a bit. "No, don't worry about that. I made it out earlier to visit my very pregnant best friend. She's more than ready to have her baby and looks ready to pop." She chuckled a little.

"Poor woman. Babies come when they come and there's not much we can do about it, unfortunately." He smiled. He'd imagined having a family, once. But the lifestyle he'd been forced to lead made that possibility a distant dream.

"Yeah. Well, I'd better get this done. Do you think you'll be all right on your own for a while?"

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

Hunith went outside with some of the warm water she'd reserved and washed the bedding and hung it out to dry. It didn't take too long, and she got to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air again. Then she remembered that she hadn't told Balinor the cover story she'd invented for him. Anyone could walk in and her story would be exposed and he'd be in danger. She realized on some level that she was being ridiculous, but she rushed inside anyway.

Balinor was there, sitting placidly by the fire, right where she'd left him. "You all right?" she asked.

"Yep. Haven't moved an inch. It's been quiet. I'm not used to that, but it's nice," he replied.

"Did anyone come by?"

"Nope."

"Good. When I visited my friend earlier, she asked about you. I sort of invented a life for you, since you probably don't want anyone to know you're here." Then she told him the story she'd told Sarah.

"That sounds vague enough. And I can build on it if I need to. That was a good idea—thanks again."

"You're welcome. Ready for some food?"

"Absolutely. It smells wonderful."

She ladled some broth for him and they talked again while it cooled. His life was a wonder to her—so different from hers. He had seen and done so many things that she was unlikely to experience. Then he asked her an unusual question.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

Hunith's mouth fell open. What could possibly be his motivation for asking her that? "Um, no."

He backtracked a bit when he saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry; it's just that you're too pretty to not have at least one admirer."

"Oh," she replied. "There aren't that many unmarried men here. The King has conscripted them into his army, and my life is too full to go looking anywhere else."

"That's unfortunate."

"That's life, regrettably. Here, the broth has cooled enough. As long as you feel better tomorrow, you can probably eat some real food."

"Hey, don't knock your broth—I like it."

"Okay, but only because you said so." And their playful chatter continued up until they both went to bed.

.

Days passed, in much the same way as the first one Balinor had been awake for. They'd wake and chat while she checked his wounds and prepared breakfast. She'd do what chores needed to be done, inside and outside the house. He'd nap, but the naps became shorter as he healed. She used that naptime to run errands or visit friends who didn't visit her first. Gradually the whole village became acquainted with "Robert," and their society helped alleviate the depression he'd been feeling since leaving Camelot.

Finally the day came when Balinor thought he'd be able to stand and walk on his own. While Hunith was preparing some concoction for a friend, her back was turned. He chose that moment to push himself up carefully to sitting, then used the chair to help him stand. The first couple of steps were hard, but he managed to make it over to touch Hunith's shoulder.

She jumped at the contact, and he lost his balance and fell over onto his backside. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she said, before bending down to help him up. "What on earth were you thinking, walking without help?" She helped him into a chair at the table she was working at.

He couldn't reply for a moment. This was the closest he's been to her eyes, and he could see they were not only blue, but the deepest blue he'd ever seen. They were like staring into a lake on a sunny day. "What was that?" he finally had to ask.

"I asked you what you were thinking by trying to walk by yourself."

"Oh, I wanted to surprise you. Lying in bed is very dull."

"I see," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I guess we'll have to get you a walking stick or a cane then."

He looked surprised that she hadn't told him off, but was grateful and told her so. When Hunith saw William later, she asked him if he wouldn't mind bringing her a suitable branch the next time he went into the forest. He agreed, and the next evening, he brought her a good, sturdy stick, not too green and not too dry. Balinor tested it out, then asked her if she had a knife he could whittle with. After searching for a couple of minutes, she handed him one.

When he started carving into the stick, she watched him without comment. He looked up when he sensed her watching him. "This kind of woodworking is a hobby of mine. It'll pass the time and keep me out of your hair."

She gave him an exasperated look. "You're not 'in my hair' to begin with, but go ahead and do what amuses you."

After finishing, Balinor was able to walk around the village with her while she ran her errands and made her visits. He relished the freedom mobility gave him. As he grew stronger, he was able to help Hunith and other villagers with their tasks. His wounds healed to the point where people were going to wonder why he was staying with an unmarried woman when he could get around on his own.

Near the back door to her house, Hunith had a small shed to dry herbs in and store various tools. Balinor decided he'd fix it up so he could sleep in there. Nothing Hunith could say could convince him otherwise. It was in need of repair anyway, and she'd be able to make good use out of it even after he left. That thought left him feeling a bit empty inside, and he couldn't figure out why.

.

Hunith watched Balinor's progress with a sense of victory. His wounds were the most serious she'd ever treated, and to see him heal gave her confidence. Being able to work with him was enjoyable. They got along very well and had a similar work ethic. Soon he'd be well enough to leave and go off to a place of his choosing, to hide from Uther. That thought made her a bit sad for some reason.

One night they were conversing by the fire when a knock sounded at her door. It was William—it seemed the baby was finally ready to come into the world. Hunith jumped up to gather herbs that would help Sarah. Balinor watched her prepare, and surprised her by asking, "Can I help?"

She stopped and looked at him for a moment. "What do you know about birthing babies?"

"About human babies, not much. About dragon babies, quite a bit. I've hatched a few and taken care of them."

She raised an eyebrow disbelievingly, but said, "Come along then." She left the house and he followed.

Once at Sarah and William's house, she ladled some of the water he'd started boiling into a cup. She stirred in a prepared mix of raspberry leaf, motherwort, skullcap, and blue cohosh root. It would help stimulate contractions, but relieve some pain and relax her. She let it steep for a while then helped Sarah drink it slowly.

Hunith set the men to boiling water and gathering cloth and blankets to be used when needed. William mainly held Sarah's hand, talked with her comfortingly and helped her walk around a bit. Hours passed in this manner, Sarah's pain and contractions gradually increasing. Near dawn, Sarah felt a certain kind of pressure. Hunith had her lay down while she took a peek—when she saw a downy little head, she said to Sarah, "Time to go to work!"

She had Sarah sit up at the edge of her bed, with her husband supporting her behind her. Clean cloth was spread all around her. Hunith sat on the floor and Balinor sat next to her. It didn't take long before Hunith was guiding the baby's head and shoulders out, and she and Balinor caught the slippery little person together. They looked at each other with identical smiles of awe. "You have a beautiful baby boy," she told the new parents.

Sarah and William laid back on the bed in relieved exhaustion. Hunith held the boy in her arms while Balinor reached the shears and string to take care of the cord. He got it done under Hunith's instruction, then fetched the warm, wet rags to clean the baby and their hands. The little boy wailed mightily while they looked him over. "Well, he's got ten fingers, ten toes and a healthy set of lungs. And that's the extent of my knowledge of babies," Balinor declared. Everyone laughed tiredly as he wrapped the baby in a blanket and handed him off to the new father.

While Hunith took care of the afterbirth, she asked, "What is his name? Did you two ever decide?"

"William, just like his father. But we'll call him Will, so he won't get confused with his papa," Sarah answered. She looked up at her husband and they both smiled.

"A good solid name," Balinor added. He and Hunith cleaned and tidied up after their doings. She made sure that little Will was feeding well, then she and Balinor went back to Hunith's house for some rest.

When they got inside, they turned to look at each other. "We did it!" Hunith exclaimed, and she threw her arms around him in her excitement.

Balinor was surprised, but after a moment he slid his arms around her waist. "I know," he replied, and added, "that was nothing like hatching dragons. Only they both cry though." They both laughed.

She gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek, and pulled back to see his reaction. His warm brown eyes twinkled back at her, and how was it she never noticed how they did that? Finally she realized she'd been staring too long, so she let go and said, "We'd better get some rest."

"Yeah," he replied, and did he sound disappointed? She didn't want to think about why that might be, and instead crawled into her little pallet on the floor. He got into bed, and as far as she knew, fell right to sleep. She remained awake longer than she should have, still trying not to think about him.

.

When Hunith woke, she found the bed empty—of people and bedding. Balinor wasn't in the house, so she went out the back door to her little shed. He was there, with the door open. He'd finished the repairs a few days ago and was now arranging straw on the floor, along one side. She watched as he arranged the bedding on top of it. He must have finally sensed her presence, because he turned and looked up at her. "Oh hi," he said, and stood up to dust himself off.

"I hope you haven't been out here the whole time I was asleep," she commented casually.

"No, I only woke a little while ago and came out here. I thought I should move out here, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Considering that . . . I'm mobile and we don't want anyone thinking we're doing anything . . . improper." That sounded pathetic, he thought.

"Oh, yeah," she replied. When did things get so awkward? she thought. Out loud she said, "Well, we should have something to eat. I'm hungry, so I'm sure you must be starving."

"Definitely," he answered, relieved that she'd found a way out of the awkward situation. He followed her inside where they found some bread and cheese for their late lunch.

When that was finished, he remade her bed with spare sheets and blankets she had. Then he took the ones from her pallet and the dirty clothes that had accumulated, and went outside to wash them. She stayed inside to prepare various herbs she'd gathered for drying or storing.

They both tried not to think of how things appeared to have changed between them, and both failed utterly.

.

A few days passed like this; Hunith and Balinor both attempting to regain that easy friendship they'd developed. They succeeded to some degree, but an undercurrent of tension ran underneath it. Balinor had started making a rocking chair for her, over her protests that she didn't need it. He argued that Sarah could use it when she came over.

The autumn equinox approached, and soon it was the day before the village's celebration. Hunith was visiting Sarah under the pretense of checking the health of her friend and new baby. After a few uninspired questions, they chatted aimlessly. But Sarah could tell that Hunith's mind wasn't really on their conversation. "Okay, out with it. What's really on your mind?"

"Huh? Nothing. I came to see my best friend and her two-week-old son."

"Oh, sure. But your heart isn't in it." That gave her another idea as she examined Hunith closer. "That's it, isn't it? Your heart's into something, or should I say someone, else."

"I have no idea what you're babbling on about." Sarah gave her a dubious look. "No, really, what are you talking about?"

Sarah sensed Hunith was telling the truth. "Oh. Well, I guess I recognize it easier since I've experienced it." She gave her friend a shrewd look. "I've seen you and Robert together lately. You don't seem as comfortable around each other as you used to be." Hunith frowned. "And you steal looks at each other when the other isn't looking."

Hunith scoffed. "You're joking. We're just friends."

"Right. And I'm the Queen of Essetir."

"Okay, so if you know all this, how do we make things easy between us again?"

"Is that what you really want?"

"I-I, ah, yes? Maybe?" She sighed. "No. So now what do I do?"

"What do you want to do about it?"

Hunith blushed. "You don't want to know."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Sarah laughed. "Tomorrow's autumn. It's the time for change, for reaping what's been sown. And you two have been sowing the seeds of something pretty promising. The celebration will be perfect timing. So go for it!"

"All right! I will. Just . . . please stop the innuendos. If I blush anymore I'll stay this red. I don't want that."

"But it's so pretty on you—"

"Sarah!" Hunith yelled, and they both collapsed into fits of giggles, which little Will fortunately slept through.

.

Balinor and William were felling trees in the woods. Winter was coming soon and everyone needed wood to last through it. They worked steadily, not talking much, until they took a break for lunch and sat down on one of the felled trees. "Looks like your shoulder's pretty well healed," William commented.

"Yeah, it twinges now and then, but not badly," Balinor replied.

"So how is it, living with Hunith? She's a wonderful woman."

Balinor nearly choked on the water he'd just sipped. "We're not living together. I sleep out in her shed now."

"Oh yeah, I know. But you do a lot of things together—eating, working, talking . . ."

"So?"

"I've noticed you two haven't been as easy around each other lately as you were before. Did you have a falling out?"

"No, we're doing fine."

"Y'know, Sarah and I were friends for a long time before we courted. Then one day I woke up and noticed how her hair was more than one color in the sunlight. And how her eyes sparkled when she laughed. Then I realized that she was watching me the same way I watched her, and things got awkward. We didn't know how to act around each other."

"Where are you going with this? Because we've got work—"

"I've seen you and Hunith act like that around each other. You glance at each other when you think no one's looking."

"So you think we're falling for each other."

"I see you going through the same thing I went through with Sarah. I know you're only staying here as long as it takes you to heal, and you look like you've healed well. But have you made any plans to move on?"

"I—"

"Hunith's a good woman, and she's been my friend for a long time. She deserves to be happy, and I think you've made her so. I've hardly seen her so alive these past few weeks. If you think you can keep her happy, then you're welcome to stay as long as you like. If you don't, then you'd better make plans soon, because she's gone through enough in her life."

"I understand," Balinor said coldly.

"Oh hey, Robert, you misunderstand me. When I see you two together, I see the potential for something beautiful and permanent. Don't let it pass you by because you think you're not right for her."

"Oh. Oh. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. Thanks."

Will clapped him on the back. "You're welcome—and I meant what I said. Sticking around could be the best decision of your life." He stood up and reached a hand down to pull Balinor up. And they got back to work without further ado.

.

The village woke to a cloudless, warm day. Everyone spent the day preparing for the celebration that evening—a feast, bonfire and dancing. It had been a good growing season, and so far, their harvest looked to be able to support them well through the winter.

Hunith was among those preparing the feast. She'd thought a lot about what Sarah had said, and was still thinking about it. Sure, she knew how she felt about him, but how did he feel about her?

She thought he felt the same, but how could she be sure if she didn't risk anything? And asking him was definitely a risk for a reserved person like her. What's the worst thing that could happen? That he'd turn her away and leave? Oh yes, but then she'd go back to her life before he came, only with a broken heart. But if he felt the same . . . wow. Was it worth the risk? Yes, it was.

Not too far away, Balinor was helping with setup for the bonfire and tables for the feast. He had similar thoughts running through his mind. He hadn't planned to stay here this long. But then again, his old life was essentially over. He was meant to be with dragons, but the only dragon was being held by an evil tyrant who'd kill him. No kin to run to; he was alone. But here, he wasn't alone. He had friends and a woman who knew what he was and didn't hate him. There was no reason to run, especially if she felt the way he did. He could make a life here, with her.

Finally everything was ready. Someone said a few words and the feast began. Hunith and Balinor sat with Sarah and William. Everything was so delicious; there was barely any room to talk. But there was plenty of laughing! It wasn't long until the children finished and began running around again, demanding the bonfire be lit. They got their wish after night fell.

Soon musicians began tuning their instruments in preparation for dancing. All the food, chairs and tables were cleared away. A lively tune filled the air and couples ran to line up. They filled the cleared space and flew through the practiced steps merrily.

Balinor wasn't familiar with this dance—with many dances, really –but he watched for a little while to get the hang of it. Once he thought he had it down, he took hold of Hunith's hand and pulled her into the line. They stepped and changed hands and twirled so many times they thought they'd fall on their faces, but they didn't. And every time she came back to him, he saw something in her eyes. It spoke of hope, of possibilities, of something more than they ever could be alone.

Gradually the music slowed. Parents left to tuck their children into bed; some came back. Wine flowed freely, but no one drank too much. The full harvest moon shone down on the couples, most were in their own little worlds.

Hunith had had enough wine to relax her and give her a bit of confidence. She had danced with few men other than Balinor. He seemed to be a bit protective of her, but she didn't mind much. She looked up at him now—he seemed content, like he'd come to a decision about something. In those warm brown eyes she saw other things, like peace, hope and something that took her breath away. When the current song stopped, he held onto her hand, and whispered down to her, "Let's go home."

She shivered. There had been something thrilling in his voice. He didn't let go of her hand, even when they went into her house. They wandered over to the fire, which he lit with a single word. Then he gently tilted her head so their eyes met. He took her other hand and spoke.

"Hunith, when I left Camelot I was hurt in so many ways. My life had been turned upside down; my family destroyed, my living taken away. Then I came here. You found me and put me back together, body and soul. You helped me find a new purpose, a new way of life. Here with you, I never have to be alone. I'm home." He slowly bent his head down and touched their lips together.

It was hesitant at first, like he'd never done this before. But it became achingly sweet as Hunith's hands slipped up his chest and around his neck. That deepened the kiss, and his trembling hands found her waist and ceased trembling. They broke apart and she pulled herself to his chest and just held on.

"I—I never thought this would happen to me. When I was young I dreamed of the handsome knight who would ride into my life and sweep me off to his castle to live forever in bliss. But that dream slowly died when most of my male friends were taken away. I became resigned to finding what joy I could from my work, helping others. And I was happy. Then you came along, taking up my life and my home. It was like the sun came out after a cloudy day." She looked up and reached a hand to his face. "You are my new dream." She pulled his lips back down to hers, and they knew nothing else for the next few moments.

Finally the need to breathe overwhelmed them. They pulled their two chairs next to each other so they could sit together. They laced their hands together and turned toward each other. "I hate to be obvious, but now what?" he asked. She giggled.

"I don't really know. I've never done this before—not even close," she replied. "You either?" He shook his head. "Well, um, there's courting. Of course I'm assuming 'this' is leading somewhere."

"I have nowhere to go. You are the closest thing I have to family now. I'm staying here, with you. So yes, 'this' is definitely leading where you think it is. Marriage."

"I still can't believe it. It's so new and wonderful!"

"I never thought it would happen to me, especially since . . ." His face fell for a moment, but she smiled brightly up at him. "But here I am, right where I'm staying."

After that they both lost their trains of thought and never quite got them back that evening. They did have the sense to go to bed separately since they knew they'd just keep each other awake. Clear heads were needed to face the future.


	3. Part 1-3

Hunith was woken by a kiss. She was so startled she opened her eyes quickly for once. But she calmed immediately when she saw who was there. "Good morning, love."

"Good morning to you!" Balinor said, and lifted her out of bed and into his arms. Once again they lost a few minutes kissing, but neither of them cared. They shared breakfast and got on with the day's work, but with goofy smiles on their faces. Their eyes continually drifted towards each other, so their chores took a bit longer. But this was much preferable to the awkward tension just a day ago.

They took a break after lunch and walked hand-in-hand to William and Sarah's house. They were both home; William and Sarah were trying to eat while attempting to calm Will down. Hunith immediately took the baby from Sarah and began bouncing him gently on her hip. "Thank you," Sarah said in relief.

"Oh, it's no trouble," Hunith replied, glancing over at Balinor, who'd sat at the table with their friends.

"I see Will's giving you a piece of his mind," Balinor commented, with a look over at Hunith. She'd managed to calm Will down.

"Oh yes, he's always explaining what inadequate parents we are," William joked tiredly.

"Hush. Let's eat with both hands and together while we can," Sarah interrupted.

The four chatted quietly while Hunith shifted the baby from hip to hip, and finally to her shoulder, where he fell asleep. She laid him down in his cradle and joined her friends at the table, sitting across the table from Balinor. He caught her eye and they just stared at each other.

Sarah and William weren't ignorant to this. They glanced at each other and William made a silent clapping motion with his hands. Sarah nodded, so William held his hands in the middle of the table and gave a loud clap.

"What?" Hunith and Balinor said together, looking at their friends.

"You two haven't done anything besides stare at each other since you sat down, Hunith," Sarah said.

"It's like we're not even in the room," William added.

"Sorry," Hunith said, "we're just a bit preoccupied."

"With each other," Sarah giggled.

"You found us out," Balinor said.

"Oh, we found you two out weeks ago," William replied. "You two have just come 'round to our conclusion."

Hunith blushed. "I guess we're a bit too obvious, Robert."

"Indeed," Balinor replied. "I guess we might as well give up being sly." He took a deep breath, "I've decided to stay here. With Hunith. She's my life now."

Sarah's eyes flooded with tears. She reached out a hand to each of theirs and said, "I knew it! I'm so happy for you two!" Hunith and Balinor smiled brightly at her, and they shared what had happened the night before and their hopes for the future. At least until little Will woke up, demanding his next meal. They bid each other goodbye, and the newly engaged couple walked back to what would soon be their home.

.

As time passed, Hunith and Balinor grew closer and closer. It became harder to keep a proper distance between them, but one or the other always stopped them in time. They wanted to do things the traditional way, because that felt right for them.

A traveler on his way to Camelot came to the village the next day, seeking shelter for the night. He was to attend a sister's wedding. Even though he knew the man probably had no interest in him, Balinor stayed well out of his way. He didn't leave the house. Hunith asked him why.

"If he sees me, he could report me to Uther," he told her. "I'm afraid my past will come back to haunt me."

She sat him down in front of the fire. Then she knelt next to him and said, "You can't live in fear. I won't let you."

"But if he is—"

She covered his mouth with a finger. "He didn't see you at all. Even if he did, you look like any other villager. He wouldn't give you another thought." She sat next to him and took his face in her hands. "We're in this together. Don't forget that." Then she pulled his mouth to hers.

His hands drifted to her waist and pulled her closer. He ran the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth. This was new and probably fueled by his anxiety, but she allowed it. It felt so good she nearly forgot what she'd been comforting him for. She attempted to slow things down before they got too carried away. They were treading a fine line, one they couldn't go back on once crossed.

She put her hands to his shoulders and gently pushed him away. "Hey. Dinner's nearly ready. Let's get to it, shall we?"

Balinor pouted, but got up to help her. He thought for a couple minutes, then tentatively asked, "About what I did just then . . . was it all right?"

She glanced at him, then away, blushing. "Yes. It was more than all right. Very . . . stirring."

His heart beat a little faster at that, and he had to work hard to calm it down. It was hard living and working together like this and not be able to . . . but they didn't have long until they married. Only a couple weeks. Surely they could make it through that.

They sat and ate dinner, talking about this and that. After dinner, there was a knock at the door. Balinor opened it to find the traveler. The man asked for a headache remedy. Balinor quickly turned to Hunith with a panicked look. She walked forward to talk with the man; Balinor retreated to the back of the house. Once the traveler left, Hunith ran to him and threw her arms around him. She soothed him by rubbing circles on his back and giving him gentle kisses.

They spent the night like that, just holding each other. When they got tired, they moved to the bed, still just embracing. The traveler left in the morning, much to Balinor's relief. Hunith hugged him close and they continued their tasks for the day; he went to fell more trees and she to help harvest the remaining apples.

Both were occupied until late in the afternoon. Just before the sun set, Hunith made to climb down the tree she'd been perching in. Suddenly her foot became wedged between two branches and she couldn't get it out. When she bent to pull it out, she overbalanced and fell backwards, knocking her head on the tree trunk. She'd shrieked as she fell, so the woman catching the apples ran to her and yelled, "Hunith!"

Other women came running, but Hunith didn't respond to her name. Soon after the other women arrived, Hunith's foot slipped out and she fell the rest of the way to the ground. Fortunately she wasn't far from the ground and landed on her shoulders first.

Not too far away, Balinor was drying off his sweat when he heard the woman cry, "Hunith!" He dropped the shirt and took off running in the direction of the voice. He found his love on the ground, encircled by the women who'd come running. "Let me through!" he cried. A couple of the women moved out of his way and he sat by Hunith's head. "What happened?" he demanded.

The woman who'd been beneath the tree answered. "She was climbing down when her foot got stuck in the branches there," she pointed to the place. "Then she fell backwards and knocked her head on the trunk. That dislodged her foot and she fell to the ground. It wasn't far but she's still unconscious."

"Oh Hunith," he sighed, smoothing her hair. Please, not you too. He checked her pulse and made sure she was breathing. Then he gently pulled up one of her eyelids and watched her pupil shrink. There was a good-sized bump on the back of her head, and he felt over the rest over her body for more swelling. "She'll be fine. Just a bump to her head. I'll take her home." The rest of the women moved as he lifted her off the ground and carried her home.

He looked around surreptitiously to make sure no one was looking, and opened the door with magic. After he closed the door the same way, he carried her to her bed and laid her down. He turned her head gently and probed her bump. "Þwínáþindunge," he whispered, and felt the swelling go down. He felt her skull where the swelling had been and found no crack. A relieved sigh escaped his mouth and he placed her head gently down on her pillow. He settled in a chair by her bedside, took her hand and waited for her to wake up.

Hunith was only out until night had settled upon the village. She blinked open her eyes and winced. "Ow! My head!" Her eyes roamed around the room. "How did I get here?"

Balinor squeezed her hand. "Hunith, love, what do you remember?" He placed a hand on her face.

"I was picking apples, and started climbing down the tree. My foot got stuck and I fell . . ."

"You hit your head then fell on the ground. Scared me senseless!" He bent down and kissed her forehead. "How are you feeling?

"I have a massive headache and an empty stomach." She sat up slowly.

"Here," he said, and walked over to where she stored her remedies. He picked up a small bottle labeled "headache," and handed it to her. Then he helped her stand up and led her to a chair at a table. "I'll have dinner warm in a minute." He stepped over to where they'd stored last night's soup and ladled some into a bowl for her. Then he held the bowl in both hands and whispered a few words. "Þurhgléde þá syfligan."

He sat the bowl in front of her, and handed her a spoon. When she touched the bowl, she noticed it was warm. "Oh, that's what you did!" She gave him a flirty look. "You're awfully handy to have around." He gave her a wink and went back to prepare another bowl.

Before he sat down, he watered down some wine in two cups, and heated that and his bowl of soup with the same spell. He sat and they both ate until they were filled.

They spent the rest of the evening talking quietly in front of the fire. Hunith was amazed that Balinor knew as much as he did about healing. He explained that taking care of adolescent dragons was a lot like taking care of adolescent humans. No matter the species, adolescents thought they were invulnerable and took too many risks. Those risks naturally led to a lot of injuries. Hunith nodded knowingly—she'd treated several adolescents for broken bones.

When Hunith yawned, Balinor stood and gently pulled her up with both hands. He led her toward her bed but she stopped him a couple feet away. "Thank you for taking care of me," she whispered, and tipped her head up to kiss him. He responded eagerly, and they wrapped their arms around each other.

After a minute or two, they broke apart. Balinor leaned his head on her shoulder and whispered, "Mmm," in her ear. That tickled her ear, but it sent a warm shiver down her spine. She pulled his head up and stared into his eyes, which seemed to darken more the longer she looked. Suddenly he crashed his lips into hers, and this kiss wasn't gentle. It was infused with relief and longing. He seemed to be communicating something to her; the longer he kissed her the more she understood.

They broke for air then came back together. He licked her lip and she opened her mouth to him. She moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down to her hips and pulled her closer. Her hands threaded into his hair, as if she could bring him closer, into her. After a minute or so of that, he broke away from her with a moan and his mouth descended to her neck. "Oh!" she gasped.

Her hands drifted down to his back and rubbed up and down. They were getting very close to crossing that line, but she wasn't sure she cared anymore. She brought her hands to the bottom of his shirt and gave it an upward tug. Balinor broke away from her neck to say, "Hunith?"

She looked up into his eyes and saw love shining there. She tugged upward again, and he held up his arms to help her pull it off. When she placed her hands on his chest, he reached out and tilted her head to look into her eyes. "Are you sure? We only have a few more days," he said.

Hunith smiled up at him and took his face in her hands. "I am sure about you," she replied, and pulled his lips back to hers. He groaned and they stumbled over to her bed to lose themselves in each other. And they didn't leave that spot for several hours.

.

Hunith opened her eyes to the most beautiful morning that had ever dawned on earth. Everything was brighter and more fragrant than ever before. Her eyes were drawn to the reason for her happiness. His eyes looked right back at her and they both smiled. "Good morning," she whispered.

"It certainly is," he replied, and tightened his arms around her. He was on his back and she was on her side facing him, head on his shoulder. She lifted her head slightly and pressed a tender kiss to his waiting lips. He rolled to his side to hold it a bit longer. When he finally released her, she laid her head back down with a satisfied sigh.

"So," he said.

"So," she replied.

"This was a big step for us."

"Indeed. It was . . . beautiful. Blissful. Life-altering. And I will never regret it."

"Nor I, as long as I live." He paused and put a hand to her face. "Hunith, I love you. And I always will, no matter what happens." Then he leaned forward to give her a tender, lingering kiss.

They could have whiled away the day in bed, but people would probably just walk in if no one answered the door and, that would be embarrassing. After dressing and eating they got on with their day, smiling secretly when they caught the others' eye.

The next few days passed in much the same manner. Balinor didn't spend every night with Hunith, but he made a point to sneak into the house after dark and back out to the shed before sunrise. They probably weren't fooling anyone at this point, but they still wanted to maintain some sense of propriety.

They discussed their plans for the future extensively. Hunith would continue her "job" of unofficial healer as well as she could while caring for their future children. And as far as those went, they wanted as many as possible. Neither of them had siblings, and knew they'd missed learning experiences because of it. Balinor had adapted to village life very well and could accept it. As long as Hunith was by his side, he'd learn to love it.

.

One night, still a few days before their wedding, Balinor had an extremely disturbing dream. He woke out of it suddenly, panting and sweating, in the shed where he'd gone to sleep. His eyes closed and the images came at him again—

Much of Ealdor was burning. Desperate mothers- all of whom he could name -darted into the woods while screaming children clung to their hands. Knights of Camelot in their crimson cloaks strode around, swords unsheathed, yelling questions he couldn't hear. Two knights appeared, half-dragging someone between them. They dropped the person, who fell to her knees. The knight in charge yelled at the woman, who lifted her head to stare defiantly at him. It was Hunith. Her face was covered in ash and small cuts, but she yelled back. The knight backhanded her face and she fell onto her side and stayed there. Then he watched himself stride out of the woods and shout something at the knights. His eyes flashed gold with magic and the knights near Hunith went flying. Other knights crept at him from behind and tackled him to the ground. He watched a knight stick his sword into Hunith before another one knocked him out with a sword hilt to the back of his head.

When he opened his eyes again, he was still on his bed in the shed, no less panicked. He pulled on his boots and a shirt and ran into the house. Hunith was on her bed, still asleep. He went out the front door and looked around at the still-sleeping village. No fire and no knights. So he went back into the house, took off his boots and lay down in the bed with Hunith. She mumbled but rolled over so he could fit better. He laid there for a few minutes, listening to her breathe. That simple sound soothed him back to sleep.

In the morning, Hunith was surprised to see him there. "Why didn't you wake me?" she asked.

"I didn't want to disturb you, since we hadn't discussed . . ."

She looked a little closer at his face. "All right, what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look . . . off. Like something disturbing woke you and you came in here."

He chuckled ironically. "No hiding anything from you." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I had a very realistic, very disturbing dream."

"And?"

"I saw the destruction of Ealdor. And you . . ." he paused to stifle a sob. ". . . You were gravely injured or dead."

"Oh, my love!" she cried, and threw her arms around him. He rested his head on her shoulder and attempted to calm himself down again. "We're all right. We're safe. I'm here."

"I'm just worried something I do will cause this." He sat back and took her hands. "I've never had a prophetic dream before. It's a rare gift. But I've heard them described before. They're very clear and realistic. One can often feel with one's senses, and I did, although I couldn't hear." He frowned.

She squeezed his hands. "That sounds awful," she said mournfully. "But you can't live in fear of this happening. That's not living." She bent over and kissed his cheek. "Now, let's get up and get going. We still have a harvest to bring in."

Balinor went back to the shed to change his clothes while Hunith did so inside. They breakfasted together then worked in their garden. Then they went out to the village's field and helped harvest what was left there. It was a long, tiring day, but satisfying.

When they got home, they closed the door and embraced each other. That embrace was quickly developing into something more, a deep, longing kiss, when they heard shouting outside. They stopped and looked at each other. Hunith opened the door to look outside. A villager ran by and she stopped him. "What's happening?"

"Men are coming. Armed men on horseback," the man replied. Hunith froze and the man kept running through the village, shouting the news.

"Hunith, what is it?" Balinor asked. He had gone further into the house to not be visible, and hadn't heard.

She closed the door quickly and leaned back on it. "Armed men on horses are headed here."

His eyes widened, and he stuttered out, "You don't think—"

"They could be from Essetir's army, out to conscript more men."

"Or Camelot's, looking for me. I have to know."

"All right. I'll go find out. Stay here." She picked up a basket filled with herbs, to help her act normally. After leaving the house, she walked toward Sarah and William's, pretending that nothing was amiss. Hoof beats sounded on the road behind her, so she stepped off it before she could be trampled. The men rode toward the village square, and her heart nearly stopped—they wore the red cloaks embroidered with the golden dragon of Camelot. She froze in terror until they had all ridden by. Then she turned and walked quickly to her friends' house.

Hunith didn't knock but went right in. Sarah and William were surprised, but stopped their questioning when they saw her terrified look. "Knights—outside—headed for the square," she gasped.

"Why's that a bad thing?" Sarah asked.

"They're knights of Camelot. They probably want—" She stopped suddenly. They didn't know any of that. She and Balinor probably should have trusted them before now.

"Hunith, what's the problem? They can be here," William commented.

Hunith looked closely at her friends. "Not these knights. Do you trust me?" she asked.

"What's this about?" Sarah asked.

"Do you trust me?" Hunith repeated.

Sarah and William looked at each other, puzzled. "Of course we do," William replied.

Hunith looked relieved. "Thank you. Please tell no one what I'm going to tell you now. Long story short, 'Robert' is really a dragonlord named Balinor. He narrowly escaped from Camelot with his life. Uther sent men to find him, and he came here, following the advice of my Uncle Gaius. It looks like Uther hasn't given up, and now Camelot's knights are here, probably to capture him." She paused for breath. "William, would you go to the square to find out what the knights want, and come tell me at my house? We need to prepare for—" here she stopped to choke back a sob, and failed. She covered her face and broke into tears.

The couple immediately rushed over to comfort her. Sarah put her arms around the distraught woman and William placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll go Hunith. I'm not pretending to understand everything you just revealed to us, but I'll help you. Go home." He grabbed a jacket and left the house.

Hunith sobbed a bit more, but quickly quieted down. She had to get back to Balinor, so they could prepare for the worst. Sarah murmured her support, and with a final hug, sent Hunith out the door.

Hunith walked as quickly as possible back to her house, trying to not attract attention. Her friends' house was much too close to the square for comfort. When she got inside, she didn't see Balinor, so she quietly called his name. He appeared on the other side of the bed, where he'd been crouching.

"Well?" he asked, then caught sight of her face. "Oh no." He collapsed to the bed when she saw her frightened look and tear-streaked cheeks.

She rushed over and collapsed next to him. "They are knights of Camelot. I went to William and Sarah's, and told them your story." He looked panicked, but she cut him off, "Don't worry, they will tell no one. I trust them with my life." His face went neutral, so she continued, "William went to the square, where they were headed. He'll find out what they want and come tell us."

"I don't like this. Those two could get into trouble."

"They know that. They've considered you a friend for some time and are willing to take the risk."

He took her hands. "Hunith, my love, I fear the worst. I have to run."

Her mouth dropped open. "No! You can't! We have to wait and see." She took a deep breath. "Let me come with you."

His mouth dropped open. "No. As much as I'd love to be with you, always, I can't endanger you. You have friends here, and family. I can't ask you to leave them for a life on the run with me. We'd never be able to settle someplace; we'd always be looking over our shoulders. I don't want that for you; you deserve so much more."

She looked at him in despair. "Please, Balinor. I don't mind any of that. I'd follow you anywhere—I love you!"

"I know. But you don't know what you're saying. Before long you'd miss the life you've built here. You must stay here. Stay safe. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were hurt because of me." His eyes began to tear up.

She could see she was fighting a losing battle, and gave in. Her heart felt like lead as she said, "All right. But stay alive. For me."

"I will. Now we have to prepare for the worst, love. Help me, please."

She nodded and got up to gather food that would last through a journey. He went out to the shed to grab the satchel Gaius had given him, and threw extra clothes into it. Then he ran back inside to find Hunith wrapping herbs of healing and clean cloth for bandages in more cloth. She handed him this and the food she'd gathered, and he put it into the satchel. He sat the bag on the table and turned to look at her. She tried to look brave, but failed, and ran into his arms.

"I'm so scared," she said, and started crying again. Her arms went around him and she squeezed tightly, as if to prevent him leaving.

"I know," he told her quietly, and just held her before beginning to rub her back. "All we can do is wait." He simply held her and let her cry.

Suddenly she released her tight hold and gave him a blazing look. He read her mind instantly and their lips met in a fiery kiss. They held nothing back; they kissed as if their lives depended up on it, pouring all of their love for each other into it. It could be their last kiss. When they broke apart, they simply held each other.

A moment later, a knock sounded at the door. Hunith shoved Balinor behind her and called out, "Come in!"

William came in and quickly closed the door behind him. He hurried over to them while they relaxed. "Hunith and—Balinor, is it? The knights are here for you, I'm sorry." Hunith would have collapsed if Balinor hadn't been holding her. "Balinor, you've been a good friend to us, and I see how much you two love each other. I hate to say it, but if you want to live, you need to run. Now. They're going door to door looking for you, and they won't stop until they find you." He looked down at Hunith. "I'm so sorry Hunith."

She turned around and clung tightly to Balinor. He nodded at William and said, "Thank you. Please take care of her for me." William nodded then turned and left. Balinor lifted Hunith's face to his and said gently, "Hunith."

Hunith gazed into his face, memorizing every beloved angle and curve. "I'll never stop loving you."

"And I'll never stop loving you. Live. Be well." He lowered his face to hers for a simple yet passionate kiss. When they broke apart, he picked up his bag and walked to the back door. He paused there and turned to say, "Goodbye, my love."

"Goodbye," Hunith choked out. He stepped through the door and closed it behind him. She collapsed to the floor and cried until no more tears would come.

After night fell, Sarah came and let herself in. She ran to Hunith and held her where she lay. Eventually Hunith let Sarah help her over to her bed. Sarah moved the blanket over and helped Hunith lay down. She pulled the blanket over Hunith, then brought a chair over to the bed. "I'll be here with you, all night long. Sleep." She brushed her hand over Hunith's forehead and hair, trying to soothe her.

When Hunith didn't fall asleep after a couple hours, Sarah went over to her medicine stores and found a sleeping potion. Hunith downed it willingly and fell asleep.

.

Sarah, William and several other villagers took turns watching over Hunith for the next several days. They helped her as much as they could with her doctoring, and gradually she recovered enough to work again. The knights of Camelot left for the next village after two days of negative answers from the villagers.

Hunith cried herself to sleep every night for several weeks. Sarah and William made sure they saw her at least once a day. They could see she was feeling better emotionally; physically she looked completely different. She was paler, thinner and looked exhausted.

One morning, Sarah visited Hunith. They talked while she worked, and Hunith had to stop a couple of times to vomit before continuing. An idea popped into Sarah's head. "Hunith, how long have you been ill like this?"

"Oh, a week or so. Whatever this is, it makes me tired too. I have to nap frequently because I seem to tire so easily."

"Are you getting any food down?"

"Yeah, after lunch I get really hungry." She got a skeptical look on her face. "Why are you asking me all this?"

"Oh, I'm just worried about your health. You've seemed . . . under the weather ever since . . ."

"It's all right. We can talk about Balinor, you know."

"I know, Hunith. But this is weird. Something about you seems different." She thought for a moment about how to phrase her next question. "Just how close did you and Balinor get?"

Hunith blushed deeply. "Very close. Close enough to, you know . . ." she gestured to the bed.

"Hunith!" Sarah said, pretending to be shocked. "I thought so. And I may know what your illness is."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it should resolve itself in several months. Of course you'll need to see a midwife to be sure when."

Hunith's mouth fell open in shock. "Nooo," she gasped.

"Just think about it. I know there's a midwife in a village an hour to the east. Go see her and we'll think of an excuse for your absence and cover for you."

Hunith nodded. She thought about it after Sarah left. It made sense. She and Balinor had started . . . being intimate about six weeks ago, and that was enough time for her body to notice a growing child. If she was carrying Balinor's child . . . she'd have a small piece of him, and he'd never know. That made her happy and sad. She'd go see the midwife, and she'd go tomorrow.

She went to see Sarah, and together they came up with an excuse for her absence—a search for a rare herb. So the next morning, after her stomach settled, she set off to see the midwife, who confirmed Sarah's suspicion. She had about seven and a half months until a tiny new person came into her life.

When Hunith got back to Ealdor, she told Sarah everything she'd learned. Sarah was thrilled for her, and promised to be with her every step of the way. Hunith was excited, but afraid. Soon everyone would know the extent of her relationship with "Robert." Many would shun her. She'd have to raise her child alone, and he or she would likely be called awful names, at the very least. And what if the child inherited its father's magic? It wasn't illegal to practice in Essetir, but it was frowned upon, thanks to Uther's influence.

The poor child would face a lot of adversity, even before she or he was born. But she already knew that she'd protect her child with her life. She'd do her absolute best to make sure the child knew they were loved and special to her. She wouldn't be able to give the child much, but she'd give them love and every other positive thing she had. Anything for the child of the love of her life.

.

Hunith's excitement about her child overcame most of the depression she'd experienced since Balinor's departure. She didn't talk about him or mention his name anymore. Instead she joyfully prepared for the child's arrival, Sarah and a few others helping her. As her condition became more apparent, a few people did shun her. But the support and love of those who didn't more than balanced that out.

The day she first felt her child move was an especially joyous one. It was winter and snow was falling outside, turning the world white. She was sweeping her floor, when she felt something flutter against her abdomen, but inside. Immediately she stopped moving. When she felt it again, she laid her hand on her abdomen and waited. There it was—the first tangible evidence of life growing within her. Knowing she'd feel more if she lay down, she went to bed. She lay there a good long time, alternately laughing and crying at the sensation.

She was less able to doctor others as her pregnancy wore on, but she helped as many as she could. Those she helped reciprocated by giving her food, clothing or baby items. She became very skilled at knitting, and spent much of the winter creating small clothing.

Hunith wrote to her uncle about her pregnancy, and though he didn't approve, he supported her. He sent a bit of money now and then, and other things his patients gave him. She found herself wanting nothing—a family with older children had even given her a cradle.

As spring rolled around, she found it increasingly difficult to move around. She talked frequently with Sarah and other mothers about her concerns and asked for advice. Though she'd mostly be raising the child by herself, she knew she could count on these women for help. She enjoyed talking and singing quietly to the baby, who'd respond with kicking or other movement. Already she loved the baby more than she'd loved anyone, except perhaps Balinor. She felt that was fitting, since they'd created this child together.

As summer approached, Hunith went into a frenzy of cleaning and organizing. Her home just wasn't ready for the baby yet! Some days Sarah would wander over and just watch Hunith waddle around, moving this and cleaning that. She didn't interrupt, but helped if asked. This "nesting" routine was very common among mothers about to give birth, and Hunith didn't have anyone to remind her to rest. Hunith also actively wished for the baby's arrival; the extra weight pulled on her back, and she was getting tired of aching. That desire was common for expectant mothers also.

One morning Hunith was at her knitting again, sitting in the rocking chair that Balinor had carved. Suddenly something fluttered to her open window. It was a bird, a small falcon, judging from its beak and talons. Its back and most of its wings were a sort of slate blue, its tail black and white. It stared at her inquisitively, and suddenly its name came to her—merlin. At that moment, she felt a cramping pain start in her back and wrap around to her belly. The merlin gave a little cry and flew off, unconcerned.

Hunith winced at the pain, but it didn't last long. It felt different from the practice contractions she'd been having for a few weeks. She calmly laid down her knitting and walked to Sarah's house.

When Sarah saw Hunith's face, she said, "I know that look," and helped her inside. They'd previously agreed that William would go fetch the midwife when it was time. After Hunith sat, Sarah asked, "Do I need to go find my husband?" Hunith shook her head, so Sarah sat down next to her.

The two women watched little Will play. He'd recently begun crawling, which meant Sarah was getting a bit more exercise than normal. Trying to keep him from harm was hard work. Sarah looked over at Hunith and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Well, it hurts," Hunith replied.

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh. I feel excited. And nervous, and scared, and relieved, and angry. Why am I angry? I shouldn't be angry! This is one of the most joyous events of my life!"

"Well, labor does make you feel all sorts of feelings more intensely. Don't you remember mine?"

"Oh I remember yours. You screamed at William and told him 'this is all your fault!' And that was just the beginning." She chuckled a bit, then broke off when a cramp hit her again.

Sarah laughed a bit too. "Yeah, I was not complimenting him, that's for sure. But I don't think labor is making you angry."

"Okay, my all-knowing friend, what is it then?"

"I think you're angry that . . . he isn't here, that he left you to do this alone."

Hunith was silent for a few minutes while she thought that over. She hadn't felt angry at him before this. Well, maybe for a bit after he left, but she'd gotten through it, hadn't she? She understood why he had to go and accepted it. But he wasn't here. Wasn't soothing her pain, holding her hand or supporting her. He was gone, who knows where, and he'd probably never get to meet their child. Dammit, she was angry! "How could he leave me like this!" she yelled, and stood up.

"Hunith, you know . . ."

Hunith started pacing. "I know what? That he had to go? That he was keeping me safe. Yeah! But where is he now, huh? Those damn knights drove him away from me. And that bloody Uther! If I ever meet him I'll . . ." she cut off as another cramp assaulted her.

Sarah took the opportunity to speak. "Hunith, please. You know we won't let you do that, even if you still wanted to after the baby's born. Come sit."

"I will not sit! Walking helps anyway. See? I'm walking! They took him away, and I need him. Where is he now that I need him most?" Hunith had transitioned from anger to despair so quickly that even Will noticed. She now stood there weeping, her face in her hands.

Sarah watched her, and when Hunith swayed, she jumped up and guided her back to her chair. She put her arms around the distraught woman and just held her. "Hunith, go ahead and cry. A great wrong was committed against you two. And those who did this to you will not go unpunished. Deeds like this always come back to haunt people."

Hunith cried for a few more minutes, and gradually calmed. Every now and then she winced from the contractions. Finally she gently pulled out of Sarah's arms. "Wow, that was . . . different."

"But totally normal. We should probably time your contractions now."

After lunch, the contractions picked up in frequency and intensity. Sarah left to find William while Hunith stayed with Will. When Sarah and William rushed in, he dashed over to Hunith, kissed her cheek and murmured a few encouraging words to her before rushing back out. Sarah stayed with Hunith and gave her the tea she'd brewed from herbs Hunith had prepared.

They spent the afternoon chatting while Hunith's labor grew more and more intense. Sometimes she lay on the bed, sometimes she paced and sometimes she sat. By the time William returned with the midwife, named Anna, she was in near constant pain.

"Can you make it back to your house?" Sarah asked.

"I . . . think so," Hunith gasped. William stayed with little Will while the Anna and Sarah helped Hunith back to her little house. Sarah readied the bed and got water boiling. Luckily there wasn't too much to do, thanks to Hunith's nesting. When Sarah finished, Hunith laid down so Anna could check the baby's progress.

"Your body is almost completely ready, Anna said, "You'll be able to start pushing soon."

Hunith moaned. She was beyond ready for this child to be born. The pain had dimmed a little, but the contractions were practically on top of each other. She sat up and had started to stand when she felt a trickle of liquid run down her leg. She took a step and felt more. "Well, there's no going back now," she said.

She nodded down to the small puddle at her feet. Anna and Sarah glanced at it, then at Hunith. "Let me help you with your dress," Sarah said. She helped Hunith remove her dress and settled her back on the bed. "Now stay."

Hunith frowned but sat on the edge of the bed, rocking. After a few more minutes, she felt pressure in her pelvis. "Uh, I feel like, well, it feels sort of like I need to use the chamber pot. Oh."

"Yeah, that's it, let's take a peek," Anna said. Hunith leaned back and Anna checked the baby's progress. "I see a bit of dark hair. It's time."

Hunith nodded through the pain, trying not to scream. Sarah sat on the bed behind her for counterweight. Anna helped her hike her shift up over her huge belly, and Hunith began the pushing process. She pushed through every other contraction for about thirty minutes before the baby's head came through. A couple more brought out one shoulder, then the other. The rest slipped out quickly, and Anna called out, "You have a boy!"

The weary new mother gasped in relief. It was sunset; she'd been at this all day. Sarah moved around to the foot of the bed to help Anna tie off and cut the cord. It took just a little smack on the bottom to get him crying. Anna held him while Sarah warmed some rags to clean him up. After he was clean and wrapped in a warm blanket, Sarah held him up so Hunith could see. When the afterbirth was taken care of, Hunith laid back and beckoned to Sarah to bring her son over.

"He's so beautiful Hunith!" Sarah cried, and the baby calmed a bit and opened his eyes. Sarah gasped and said, "Hunith, he has your eyes!" She then handed him to his mother.

Hunith took her son and looked him over. His eyes were her shade of deep blue, which was unusual. Most newborns had the same blue-grey eyes that gradually changed color over their first two years. But that didn't matter much right now—she just wanted to look at him. He seemed to be entranced by her as well. She pulled the blanket a little away from him to look at his fingers and toes—ten of each and all perfect.

Anna and Sarah cleaned everything up, made Hunith comfortable and sat in chairs next to her bed. Anna would stay with her overnight so Sarah could go home to her family. For now, the three women sat there, chatting quietly, while the baby fed. Suddenly Sarah had a thought. "Hunith, did you ever decide on a name?"

"Oh, I never did. I thought about naming him after his father, but that could only lead to trouble. Let me think," she replied, and thought back over her day. She remembered the beginning of her labor, how the bird had appeared then flew away as the first contraction hit. Then she smiled and said, "Merlin. His name is Merlin."

.

Sometime in the night, after Anna and Hunith had fallen asleep, baby Merlin decided it was time to eat. Hunith rolled over tiredly and put him to her breast. She stroked his tiny head and said, "There there little one. I'm here."

At that moment, little Merlin opened his eyes and met his mother's. She gasped in surprise as those little eyes, darkened at night, flashed momentarily gold and forever turned his mother's world upside down.

.

At that very same moment, far across Essetir, in a small abandoned hut, Balinor startled awake. Something had tickled his magical senses. It was the second time tonight; the first had been at sunset. He opened his eyes for a moment, but sensed nothing else. So he shook his head, rolled over and went back to sleep.


	4. Part 2-1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split Part 2 into 2 chapters. I added about 3K words to a story that was already over 5K words. The basis is The Last Dragonlord, but I did change almost all the dialog and added some. What's original is the personal insights and missing scenes/descriptions.. If you're familiar with my series of stories In Arthur's Head, this is similar, only with Merlin. It was harder because he's a lot more complex than the prince. I hope you enjoy! :)

Part 2, Father and Son

About twenty-one years later . . .

The second night of the dragon's attack. I knew this was going to happen, I knew it. I knew it even before I'd freed him. That lying, manipulative . . . After all I've done to save Camelot- all he's done –he was going to destroy it. What sleep I'd managed to get was full of fire- and rage-filled nightmares. I followed Arthur and his uninjured knights across the main square. People ran through the square screaming, surrounded by burning rubble. How many more deaths would be on my conscience after tonight?

Arthur rallied the knights as he ran. "I know you're exhausted, but make one last attempt for me! Every bolt must count!" It wouldn't make a difference, but I couldn't tell him that. I knew enough about dragons to get me into trouble, but not out of it.

We ran up the stairs to the battlements. The knights spread along the openings and Arthur walked along behind them. I followed him to the end of the line where he got into position and readied himself. "I'm sorry you have to do this," I told him. He wouldn't understand but I had to tell him.

"Why? You aren't to blame." If only he knew. The dungeon would be the kindest punishment I'd receive. Just then we spotted the treacherous dragon. "Flame up!" he yelled, and all the knights lit their bolts and took aim. I looked up and down the line a couple of times. How many of them would die tonight? "Keep strong! This isn't your night to die, I will ensure that! Hold firm! Hold! Hold! Now!"

The knights released their bolts right before the dragon flamed the battlements. I think everyone ducked in time. When he'd flown off, Arthur checked to make sure everyone was all right, then took off for the square again. He sure made it difficult to protect him. The knights followed, and I chased after them.

I got there in time to hear yelling and saw the dragon swoop down into the square. Was he going after Arthur? Why? Wasn't Arthur his chance for true freedom too?

I stopped and looked around desperately, because the dragon was diving again. I saw a spear and used a variation of the spell I'd used on the griffin. "Flieh! Gár!" then sent it flying at him with a yell. It glanced off his hide.

He hovered there, just glowering at me. "Do not think that your paltry magic can hurt me!" he growled and flew off. That made me feel less than worthless.

I yelled back in grief and anger, "Why do you do this?! You're murdering innocent people!" He just kept flying away; he had no remorse. I had to do something, but I had no idea what. If magic didn't work, what would? Maybe Gaius knew.

It looked like the beast was done for the night anyway, so I went inside, to the infirmary, to find Gaius. When I saw him I went straight over to him. "Are you harmed?" he asked.

I made sure no one was listening. "I can't do anything. My magic won't help. It doesn't work."

"Dragons aren't mere animals. They're creatures of magic and awe. You should know that they're unaffected by your powers."Great. What little hope I'd had left was shot down. Was there anything left to try?

Having nothing else to do, I helped him and Gwen treat the wounded. There should be another here helping us, but as far as I knew, she was dead. Another source of my nightmares. More guilt washed over me and I tried to bury it by throwing myself into the work. It helped. A while later, those of us still standing fell into bed for a couple hours of rest.

.

In the morning I rushed to Arthur's chambers to help him. The dragon had clipped him on the shoulder, but he insisted he was fine. Right, and I'm the King. I didn't say that to him—it just wasn't the time. I was honestly surprised he hadn't started sleeping in his chainmail. It must be tempting.

Shortly after he'd finished dressing, he was summoned to the war room. The King, his advisors and all the knights met daily now, to discuss cheerful things like the death toll and new damage. They were some of the most depressing meetings I'd ever witnessed. Uther asked Arthur for his report, and the Prince stepped forward to give it.

"The dead number forty-nine men, twenty-seven women, and eighteen women and children are unaccounted for. Almost all of last night's fires are doused. The palace walls, especially the western side, are close to collapsing, I could go on." I don't think he looked at his father once during that speech. Too painful.

"Do we have any idea yet on how the creature got out?" I did, but he was never gonna know.

Leon replied, "I'm sorry to say, Sire, we don't." I hoped I was good at acting by now.

"There has to be a means of ridding ourselves of this abnormality. Gaius?" Oh now he asks Gaius. Meh.

"We require a dragonlord, Sire." Arthur had wandered to a chair and dropped heavily into it, but he perked up at that. Dragon lord? What was that?

"You should know that's not possible," Uther replied, and turned away, hopeless again.

"Sire, what if . . . there was, in fact, one dragonlord left."

Uther turned again. "That's impossible."

"But if there was." Everyone was looking at Gaius now.

Uther started walking toward him. "Are you saying there is?"

"It might be just a rumor."

"Go on."

"I'm not completely sure, but I think he's called Balinor."

The King looked confused. "Balinor?"

"Where does he live?" Arthur asked. I could see he was getting an idea. Uther would hate it.

"He was formerly seen in Essetir, in the town of Enged, but that was several years ago," Gaius replied.

Arthur stood. "If this man's still alive, then it's our responsibility to find him."

Uther turned his head to look back at Arthur. "Our treaty with Cenred is invalid. We are at war. If they found you over their border, they would kill you." Let the father-son power struggle begin.

"I'll go by myself."

"No."

"I won't be detected that way."

"No, Arthur. It is too risky." He turned all the way around to face his son.

"More risky than remaining here? I won't sit around and watch my men die when I have the ability to save them."

"You have my orders."

"Don't turn this into a battle of wills, Father."

"I'm not speaking to you as your father; I'm speaking to you as your king!" Uther'd raised his voice; there was a tense pause as Arthur formed his reply.

"I'll go at once." He walked past the King, who had to turn again.

"My worry is for you."

"Mine is for Camelot. I'll get word to you when I've found him." He turned to me, "Ready the horses." I can't believe that worked. I bowed to Uther and followed Arthur out. I had another trip to prepare for.

.

After I'd finished preparing the horses, I went back to Gaius's to pack for myself. More than a few questions had come to mind while I was in the stables. I intended to pack for Arthur once my curiosity was satisfied. "Who were the dragonlords?" He didn't reply; he was pacing and must be lost in thought. "Gaius?"

He stopped and turned to me. "They were men who could speak to dragons, subdue them."

"What happened to them?" Were? Is that why he didn't say anything 'til this morning?

"Uther felt that the skill of the dragonlord was too similar to magic. So he had them all captured and murdered." What?!

"But one's still alive." Wait. "How did you know?"

"I helped him get away."

Whoa, that was impressive. "Gaius."

He came over to me and leaned on the table I was working at. "Merlin, have you ever heard the name 'Balinor?'"

"No."

"Your mother never talked about him?"

I stopped my preparation. Huh? "My mother?"

"She gave him shelter."

"She opposed Uther?"

"Yes."

Whoa. Who knew? "She had courage."

"Yes. When Uther found out where Balinor was, he sent knights to Ealdor to track him down. He was compelled to run."

This was a really great story, but I was puzzled. "Why didn't she explain any of this to me?"

He came around the table to stand in front of me. Uh oh. "Merlin, I swore I wouldn't ever talk about these things."

I was seriously confused now. "About what?"

"I've always considered you my son, but that isn't what you are. The man you are looking for is your father."

He'd completely blindsided me; I could feel about ten emotions right this moment. Shock hit first, and I took a couple of steps back. My mouth went so dry I could hardly reply. "My father?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

Now I wanted to cry. "He was a dragonlord?" Now anger. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me?!"

"I yearned to. Your mother felt it would be too risky." Gah!

Still angry. "I had a right to know!"

"She intended to keep you safe."

On some level, I understood that. I transitioned to a quiet fury, "No. I had a right to know." I turned and walked to my room, feigning a calm I didn't feel. Gaius wouldn't be fooled though. I closed the door behind me and climbed to the window. I spent what little time I had left trying to calm the anger and resentment swirling around inside me. Fortunately I had enough control over my magic now that it wouldn't just burst out, like Morgana's did. I forgot all about helping Arthur pack.

.

When I realized it was time to go, I jumped down and rushed out to get my bag. What I had packed would have to do. Gaius wasn't in the main chamber, which was good. I had calmed and was now really ashamed of how I'd treated him. I didn't know what I'd have said if he'd been there.

I left the castle and went to the stable to collect the horses. I led them into the cluttered square and waited for Arthur to show up. He'd probably yell, but I deserved it. I turned to look for him, but instead saw Gaius approaching me. Deep breath—calm.

"You have all you need?" he asked quietly.

I nodded without looking at him. I couldn't leave him like that. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to . . ."

"I know." He understood, like always.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said from the other side of the horses.

I walked around to look at him. Surprisingly, he was prepared. "You're ready?"

"No thanks to you." He mounted his horse and cringed, probably from his wound.

"You all right?" I asked, just to make sure. He looked okay, but he always downplayed his injuries.

"It's only a scrape," he replied, and trotted off.

Gaius walked forward to put his hands on my saddle. That drew my attention. "Merlin, whatever happens, don't tell Arthur who this man is. Uther would be deeply suspicious of the son of a dragonlord." I nodded and he nodded back. And with that, I rode off after Arthur.

.

After riding the rest of the day, Arthur stopped us at the top of a hill. We looked down on a village which I fervently hoped was Enged. Saddle sore was an understatement for how I felt right now.

"Here we are. One step and we're in Cenred's kingdom. This Balinor is hopefully worth the trouble." I looked sideways at him—I hoped so too, though for more reasons than he had.

By the time we reached the village and its tavern, it was not only dark but pouring rain. That had a negative effect on my mood, but didn't seem to affect Arthur's. We took care of the horses and entered the tavern. I guess visitors weren't normal; everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at us.

That didn't faze Arthur, Prince of Eternal Optimism. "Greetings!" An annoyed-looking man pulled a knife out of a table. Everyone went back to what they'd been doing, and we skirted around tables until we found one unoccupied. We sat down and ordered ale. When the innkeeper returned, he slammed the tankards down and slopped our drinks all over the table. Yikes. Arthur remained undeterred, "We seek a man called Balinor. I'm prepared to pay . . ." He set a bag of coins down in front of the innkeeper. ". . . generously."

The innkeeper looked around, nodded and leaned down to Arthur. "Haven't heard of him." The innkeeper took only the few coins Arthur had paid and left. Nice. Maybe they did hate visitors here.

"You think anyone here is Balinor?" I asked Arthur.

"I hope not." He finally sounded a little fazed.

"So do I." I looked around at the other patrons; none seemed inclined to befriend us.

After we had a warm stew for dinner, we hired a room and were led up to it. Now we could dry off and sleep in actual beds. A step up for me and a step down for His Highness.

We wasted no time preparing for bed. By the end of that miserable day I was ready for sleep to numb me. Or at least have a break from Arthur's prying glances so I could think alone. Alas not. He took off his shirt and I saw his bandages. He wasn't healing well.

"What's the matter with you today?" Arthur intruded into my thoughts anyway.

"What?"

"It hurts me to admit it, but I do enjoy your surly retorts. In fact, it's probably your only worthwhile characteristic." Surly?

"Thanks." I think. I attempted to turn away, hoping he'd get the hint.

"There are plenty of servants who can serve. So few are adept at making a total prat of themselves. What is it?" Unbelievable. I shook my head. I think you've got it backwards, prat.

"Nothing."

"It's something. Tell me." Nope, get the hint—here's some silence. "Alright, I know I'm a prince, so we can't be friends. But if I wasn't a prince . . ."

"What?" Honestly? He didn't get the hint.

"Well, then . . . I think we'd possibly get on." So . . . we haven't before?

"So?"

"So can you at least tell me?"

"Well, that's right. But you know, if you weren't a prince, I'd tell you to mind your own damn business."

"Merlin." You're exasperated? You're the one prying. Ugh. "Are you missing Gaius?" Now he's patronizing me. Great. I rolled my eyes.

"Something like that."

"Well, what is it, then?" He threw a pillow and hit me in the head. Nice.

"I'll tell you." You really want to know? Really?! No you don't. I was irritated enough to say it, but didn't. "I'm worried about everyone back in Camelot. I hope they're okay."

"So do I," he replied. Maybe he should know, but he couldn't. Not yet. He was silent after that, and we both fell asleep.

I don't know how long we'd been asleep when I felt something heavy compress my legs and startled awake. There was a strange man lying across my legs, and Arthur's arm held him there. His other hand held a knife to the man's chest. "What's happening?" I asked, still panicked. I quickly pulled my legs out from under the guy.

"Do you know what the penalty is for stealing?" Arthur was deadly calm.

"No, please. I have hungry children."

"Tell me where I can find Balinor."

"Balinor?"

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Not a thing. I . . ." Arthur pressed a bit harder with the knife.

"Do you want to live?"

"It's been several years since I last saw him!"

"Tell me where he dwells."

"You have to go through the Forest of Merendra to the base of Feorre Mountain. There you'll locate the cave where Balinor lives." A lead! Arthur released the man. "Just don't expect too much." What?

"Why?" I asked. I'd already started to get my hopes up.

"He won't be pleased. Balinor despises everyone and everything." What?! No! "A cave's the proper home for him." He scurried out of our room, but I barely noticed. I was depressed again, just like that. I really hoped he was lying; it seems I'd already built up expectations which could be dashed tomorrow.

.

We left fairly early in the morning. We were nearly through the Forest of Merendra now, and had to lead the horses over the very uneven ground. After a while, I heard Arthur stumble so I turned to look at him.

"It's okay," he said. Right.

"No, it's your 'scrape.' I'm taking a look." We tethered the horses in a copse of trees and Arthur balanced himself on a young tree. I pushed back his shirt and bandage; it still wasn't healing. Then we heard a branch snap and looked for the source. I ducked down behind a fallen tree; better safe than sorry. I whispered, "Get down! Get down!" I had to pull Arthur down. Not good. I peeked over the side of the tree and saw several soldiers pass by. I whispered again, "Arthur?" When he didn't reply, I shook him, "Arthur?" His eyes were closed and he was out cold. I knew he was downplaying that wound, grr!

I hauled the prat over to his horse and slung him over the side, face down. I may have used magic to help—muscles are heavy! I secured him to the horse so he wouldn't slide off, then tied his reins to my saddle. We went through the rest of the forest like this—he didn't regain consciousness once.

When we reached the foot of the mountain I dismounted and checked on Arthur. He was no better; I couldn't take him down to look around. I led the horses to a thicket and tied them there. Then I started down the hill to find the cave.

It didn't take long to get down to the cave by myself. It was weird not having Arthur around, stopping me from doing this or that. He'd probably tell me not to go into the cave without a lookout. But my lookout was asleep on a horse, so I followed a good-sized stream into the cave.

I was getting pretty desperate to find Balinor. I wasn't sure what else I could do for Arthur, and he was going downhill fast. When I got into the cave, I called out, "Hello?!" I walked further in, seeing several signs of habitation, but no dragonlord. Then I was grabbed from behind and too shocked to speak.

"What are you doing here, boy?" a deep voice growled behind me.

"My friend, he's ill! He needs treatment!" I yelled desperately. I was let go and shoved forward. I turned to look at my father. He was fairly tall, with long dark hair and beard that was graying a bit. It was too dark to see his eye color.

"Show me, boy." I didn't register his words at first; I was still taking him in. "Why are you standing around? Go get him!" He yelled the last bit, so I hurried past him to get Arthur.

I carefully led the horses part way down the hill. The less I had to carry Arthur, the better. I manhandled him into the cave, where Balinor met me and helped carry Arthur to a pallet of blankets. The Prince looked much worse than when I'd left him—he was running a fever.

I stood back and watched as Balinor took off Arthur's shirt and bandage. He cleaned the wound and examined it carefully. Then he muttered to himself a bit before getting up and tossing some herbs in a bowl with some water and dirt. Dirt? He mashed all these together then spread it over Arthur's wound. He held his hand over Arthur's head, then over the wound. Then he did something I didn't expect—"Ahlúttre þá séocnes. Þurhhæle bræd." He pronounced a healing spell. I couldn't see his eyes to be sure, but I knew the words. He looked at me, as if to see if I understood. I didn't give anything away, so he simply said, "He has to sleep."

"Will he be okay?" I asked.

"By morning," he replied, and walked past me.

I turned to say, "Thank you."

He put the bowl down and started preparing food. Ah, dinner. I started to ask if he wanted help, but he must have sensed my intent and shook his head. I sat down next to Arthur to wait.

It turned out to be a sort of thick stew. I knew it was done only when he stood up and picked up a pair of bowls and spoons from a nearby table. He ladled some into a bowl and motioned for me to sit by the fire. I hadn't presumed he'd share, but I was glad all the same. He handed me the bowl then ladled some for himself and started eating.

I looked at him, uncertain, but when our eyes met again, I felt reassured. "Smells good," I said, and took a bite. "How long have you been here?"

"Several winters," he replied. He seemed determined to keep his past to himself.

"That's got to be hard."

"Why are you here?" he asked abruptly. Uh oh.

"Just passing through." That was I all was going to say, but I couldn't just give up. "We're trying to find someone. I heard, well . . . they said that he lives around here somewhere. A man called Balinor. Have you ever heard of him? He was a dragonlord."

His expression didn't change. "He's moved on."

"You know him?"

"Who are you?!" He raised his voice again. Must tread lightly.

"I'm . . . Merlin." He didn't react to my name.

"And him?" He pointed at Arthur.

"He's my master."

"His name!"

"His name's Lancelot. He's a knight. A nice one." I wasn't ready to tell the truth yet, but I'd hesitated in my answer.

He'd noticed my hesitation. "His name is Arthur Pendragon. He's Uther's son." Oh no.

"Yes."

He talked over me. "This is Cenred's kingdom. He's inviting danger. Why are you looking for me?"

"Are you Balinor?" I asked, but he didn't answer. Well, if he wanted the truth, he was going to get it, completely unvarnished. "The Great Dragon is destroying Camelot."

"He's called Kilgharrah."

"Well, we can't make him stop. None but you, a dragonlord, can."

He nodded, like he'd anticipated my response. "He doesn't act without reason. He attacks for a purpose. Vengeance. This is Uther's fault."

I tried to get through to him. "But he's killing the innocent. Women and children."

I don't know if he was listening. "Uther hounded me! He tracked me like an animal!" He was angry, like he sided with the dragon.

"I know."

He stood up, still angry. "What do you know about anyone's life, boy?! Uther requested I use my power to call the last dragon to Camelot. He said he wished to make a truce with him, but he didn't! He deceived me! He stabbed me in the back! You ask me to defend this man?"

"I ask you to defend Camelot."

"He murdered all of my kin! Only I escaped!"

"Where did you run to?"

Strangely enough, my question seemed to calm him. "There's this village named Ealdor."

"Yes."

"I had a life there. A woman. A wonderful woman. Ealdor is outside Uther's kingdom, but he still hunted me. Why wouldn't he leave me alone? What did I do that he was determined to ruin the life I made, leave the woman I loved? He dispatched knights to murder me. I was compelled to move here, to this! So, I know how Kilgharrah feels. He's lost his entire race, all of his kin. You want to understand how that feels? Take a look, boy. Let Uther perish. Let Camelot die." He turned away from me.

"You think everyone in Camelot should die?"

He turned back. "What do I care?"

"And if your son lives there?"

"I have no son." That hurt a lot. But maybe he didn't know?

"What if I told you . . .?"

I didn't find out then because I didn't get to finish. As if he'd planned it, unconscious Arthur called out, "Merlin. Merlin." He concluded with a cough, but he'd effectively ended the conversation. Balinor walked away and I rubbed my forehead in sad frustration. So close.

A short while later, Balinor came back and went to where he'd set up some bedding. I found a flat spot close to Arthur and spread mine out. Without any further comment, he doused all the candles and we were plunged into darkness.


	5. Part 2-2

When I woke in the morning, I found enough food for two people sitting next to me. Balinor was nowhere to be seen. I ate half of what he'd left, put on my jacket and wandered outside. Balinor stood a bit upstream from the cave, facing away from it. I sat on a rock near the entrance and watched him. After a few more minutes, I heard Arthur moving around inside, and he practically bounced outside. "I feel fantastic! What the hell did you do to me?" He asked.

"It's all thanks to Balinor," I replied, nodding in my father's direction. I hadn't slept nearly as well as Arthur had, apparently.

"So we located him, then? Thank goodness for that."

"That doesn't imply he's going to help," I said loud enough so he'd hear me.

"What?"

"You won't convince him."

"He knows what's at risk?" I just nodded. He knows all right. "What sort of man is he?"

"I don't know. I believed he'd be something special." I felt disappointed, bitter. The man at the inn had been right after all. All those hopes and expectations had come crashing down. I tried to brush all that aside for Arthur's sake, but it was difficult.

Arthur decided to try Balinor himself. I couldn't blame him—there was way too much at risk to quit now, and he did have finely-honed powers of persuasion. I watched them converse, but it didn't last as long as I thought it should. Arthur made his way back to me, but he wasn't smiling.

"What'd he tell you?" I asked.

"He'll come around." Just like I thought.

"He said that?"

"Wait . . . give him a minute." Arthur stood next to me and we watched Balinor make his way back to us.

"Goodbye, then," he said, and started to walk past us. I didn't realize until then that I'd been holding onto a shred of hope. His words shattered that and my heart dropped. It was over.

"That's what you decided?" Arthur said in disbelief, turning to face Balinor.

The dragonlord stopped and turned back. "I won't aid Uther." He turned back and started walking again.

"Then the citizens of Camelot are damned."

"So be it."

"Don't you have a conscience?!" Arthur was stunned, but he didn't give up yet.

"You should ask that of your father!" Balinor spat back.

I'd had enough. "And you're not any better than him!"

"Don't waste your time, Merlin!" Arthur said, and started walking to where I'd tied the horses.

I stood to follow him, but I hadn't finished with my father yet. "Gaius told me of the integrity of dragonlords! Obviously he was wrong!" He'd stopped and turned while I was talking.

"Gaius?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"A good man."

"Yeah. I hoped you'd be similar to him."

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled; I glanced at him briefly.

I turned back to Balinor. "I wanted to . . ."

Arthur cut me off with another yell. "Merlin!"

"Well, what's the point?" I concluded, and turned and followed Arthur. I felt many different emotions again, too many to sort right now. I simply functioned by default—going where Arthur led me.

.

We saddled the horses, attached our things and rode away. We found a path this time, so we followed it until twilight. Then we went off the path a bit and made camp. I didn't feel much like chatting in my usual manner, so most of the ride and camp set up was in silence.

It was Arthur who finally broke it. "I thought that quiet would be a good thing with you, but I find it just as annoying. You're a riddle, Merlin."

"A riddle?" I asked, playing along for now.

"Yes. But now I actually like you."

"Yeah?"

"Now I know you aren't as big an idiot as you look." He prodded me with a stick, not quite hard enough to push me over. Prat. I had to bite my tongue.

"Yeah, I feel similarly. Now that I know you aren't as arrogant as you seem." I turned toward him.

"You still feel I'm arrogant?"

"No. Maybe . . . supercilious."

"That's a heavy word, Merlin. Do you really know what it means?" He seemed surprised, maybe.

"Condescending."

"Very nice."

"Patronizing." He was being that.

"That's not quite what it means."

"No, these are other qualities you have."

"Now just a minute!" He really shouldn't be so indignant. He did ask for it.

"Overbearing." We heard a twig snap; Arthur picked up his sword.

"Shh."

"Really overbearing." Like now.

"Merlin!"

"You wanted to chat." Another twig snapped. I picked up a sword and followed Arthur. Suddenly we heard trees move behind us, so we turned around.

It was . . . Balinor?! "Watch it, boy. I thought you could use some help. This is perilous territory."

"And you'll come back to Camelot with us?" Arthur asked. He was as shocked as I was.

But Balinor spoke to me. "Merlin, you're right. There are people in Camelot who endangered their lives for me. I am indebted to them and must repay them."

I still didn't say anything; I wasn't sure I could. Arthur did though, "If you're successful in killing the dragon, you'll be rewarded."

Father scoffed. "I don't want any reward." Gaius wasn't wrong!

"Wonderful! Let's eat," Arthur replied. He stabbed his sword into the turf and walked away. I still couldn't speak, but smiled and nodded at Balinor. Now I could tell him what I'd wanted to tell him twice before. I just didn't know how he'd react.

Arthur had conveniently forgotten that cooking required fire and fire required wood. He sent me to collect it, of course. Balinor decided to join me; I didn't ask why.

It had rained recently enough that most of the wood we found was wet. "This wood's too damp," I commented.

"It's all right. I think we'll be able to make it light," he replied. Had he guessed my secret?

We continued picking up wood. This was as good time as any to talk—Arthur was making a circuit of our campsite, out of earshot. "When you cured Arthur, I heard you say a few words."

"An age-old prayer."

"I sensed it was more than that." Come on Father, tell me.

"The Old Religion can explain various things."

I paused in my gathering. "The Old Religion. Is that something you can learn?"

"It's not something that can be taught. Either it's in you, or it isn't. My father understood that, and his father before him."

"Were they dragonlords too?"

"We'll want kindling." He evaded my question. Fine. Time to try a different angle; an emotional one. I stood up.

"You said . . . You mentioned Ealdor. You took sanctuary with a woman."

"That was some time ago."

"That's where I grew up."

"Ealdor?" He stopped. This was working.

"Yes. I know the woman."

"Hunith? She's alive then?" Oh yes.

"Yes. She's my mother."

"Then she wed. That's nice." He seemed disappointed but satisfied, and turned around to pick up more. But he stopped and turned when I spoke again.

"She didn't marry. I'm your son." Boom. We simply gazed at each other for a few moments, taking each other in through the filter of this new truth.

He shook his head a bit and said, "I don't know what it's like to have a son," he admitted, when he'd recovered from his shock.

I shook my head, and shrugged. "Or I a father," I admitted back. Suddenly I heard a branch snap behind me. I turned and saw Arthur walking by a few yards away. I turned back to my father. "You cannot tell Arthur." He walked over to me and handed me some wood. He looked at me for a moment and smiled. I returned it gladly.

.

After dinner, Arthur retired early. He voluntold me for first watch, but I didn't care. It meant Father and I could converse more without him. And we wouldn't have to watch what we said. So His Pratness slept as we sat by the campfire. Father whittled some wood; he wouldn't tell me what it was going to be though. We were talking about why he left Ealdor.

"Why didn't you ever come back?

"I felt her life would be safer without me." I shook my head. How could he think that?

"Why?"

"Uther sought my life. If he'd tracked me down, he'd have killed me and your mother. I needed her to be safe."

"We could've gone with you."

"What sort of life would you have lived here?"

"We'd have been . . . content." We'd have been together. Mother and I wouldn't have had to suffer cruelty. I decided something. "When we're done in Camelot, we'll go to Ealdor."

"She won't know me." What? Of course she would! "I see her in you."

"Yeah?" That surprised me.

"You have her compassion."

I could tell that subject was getting painful for him, so I changed it. I did have a lot of questions. "How did you come to be a dragonlord?

"You don't decide to be a dragonlord. It isn't something you're taught. It's a solemn gift. For millennia it's been handed down from father to son. And that is what you have to become, Merlin." Whoa.

"I would love that."

"And like all dragonlords, you won't know for certain that you have that gift until you meet your first dragon." He stopped for a minute, just whittling. Then he looked back up at me thoughtfully. "You should get some rest. We've an important day before us. Goodnight, Son."

"Sleep well, Father."

I slept without trouble for the rest of the night. When I woke, I saw a little dragon figure on a stump next to me. That must have been what he'd been whittling; it made me smile. Then someone grabbed me from behind and covered my mouth— Arthur.

He whispered, "Cenred's men." Then he stood and drew his sword, scanning the forest around us.

Cenred's men attacked with a yell. Arthur immediately engaged the first man. More came and I tossed Father a sword then turned to take on my own opponent. He disarmed me fairly quickly, of course. Balinor had finished off his man and rushed to my aid. "No!" he yelled, and stepped in front of me just as the soldier moved to run me through. I caught him before he fell too far. Noooooo!

I didn't think; I just acted on instinct. "AHHHH!" I yelled, unwittingly imbuing the yell with magic. Although I absolutely intended to hurt him, at the very least. The soldier flew backwards until he hit a tree very hard. Maybe he was dead. Good. I turned my attention back to Father and gradually lowered him to the ground. I just held him.

"Ah, I noticed you inherited your father's talent," he commented, like he wasn't dying. "Merlin . . ."

"Please, no. Please. I can save you." And I didn't care if Arthur saw. This was my Father.

He was still trying to speak. "Listen to me. When you face the dragon, remember: be strong. A dragon's heart is on its right side, not its left."

"I can't do it alone." I can't do it at all! I didn't know anything!

He touched my face, "Hear me. Oh, my son. I've seen enough in you to believe that you'll make me proud." And with that, he passed into the next life.

"No. Father." I couldn't stop the tears from coming. "No." What was I going to do now? What were we going to do now? I lowered him to the ground.

Arthur showed up then, took one look at Balinor and threw his sword down. "NO!" he yelled. He saw what I saw and felt what I felt, but not to the same degree. Not even close. But he couldn't know, so I wiped my eyes and stood up to face him. "Camelot is done for," he concluded.

Yes, it probably was, I thought. I was so utterly lost I didn't know what to do next. Will, Freya, Morgana . . . and now my father. How many more of my loved ones would I lose in my quest to see Arthur crowned and magic freed? I probably would have collapsed to the ground again if Arthur hadn't suggested we bury my father.

I hadn't thought that Arthur would want to lay a sorcerer to rest, but he didn't know about Balinor's magic. Maybe he didn't even know that commanding dragons was a kind of magic. Who knows what his poor excuse for a father taught him?

So we buried him there in that forsaken place. We didn't mark his grave, but it would always be marked on my heart. It started raining before we finished, which just added to the overall wrongness of the day.

It rained on us for the rest of our ride back to Camelot. We didn't waste any time drying off, but went directly to the war room. The King and his advisors would be there; they stood as we entered.

Arthur didn't waste any time or try to soften the blow. "I'm sorry, Father. I failed you. The last dragonlord has died." Gaius glanced at me and I tried to stop the tears. Gaius lowered his head in defeat.

The King had to lean on the table. "I might've wished for that news before, but not now," Uther replied. Yeah, I'll bet.

The Prince wasn't done yet. He'd been thinking of a solution all the way home. "All is not lost, Father. We must fight the beast ourselves. I propose we ride out and battle it on our own terms: on open ground, on horseback, where we can move better."

"What's the point?" He just didn't want to potentially lose Arthur.

"So what? If we do nothing, Camelot will fall." Arthur understood the meaning of "proper" self-sacrifice. He could lose his life, yes, but he could save others in the process. Uther didn't understand that.

The King stood up again and nodded reluctantly. "You have my permission." Personally, I thought we should send Uther out to open ground and let Kilgharrah eat him. That's probably all he wanted. When did I switch to Kilgharrah's side?

Arthur turned and looked around the room. "I require a dozen knights! Those who don't want to fight can do so without blot on their character. For those courageous enough to volunteer should understand, our odds of returning are slim." Arthur stood there alone for a minute before Sir Leon stepped forward. Gradually several other knights came forward to form a circle around the Prince. He nodded at them and they all left to prepare themselves for what could be their last quest. Their suicide mission. More deaths on my conscience.

Arthur let me go after that, telling me to report to him in a couple hours. It would be after nightfall when we faced the dragon. I wasn't sure what to do—this free time was giving me too much time to think. But I had nothing else to do and Gaius had left me alone for now.

I sat on my bed and started to unpack my bag. I stopped when I unearthed the little whittled dragon. I remember being so touched and proud when I woke up to see it this morning. Now it reminded me of what came after, and I broke down again. I had seen this moment in the crystal too. That just made me hurt more. Gaius came in then.

"Merlin, what went wrong?" he asked in alarm. He knew what went wrong; he just wanted to know how.

"I couldn't save him," I managed to reply through the tears.

"Merlin." He was chastising me for chastising myself.

"He said the dragonlord's gift is handed down from father to son."

"That's correct."

"When I confronted the Great Dragon, my magic was worthless." If I had this gift, shouldn't I have been able to stop him then?

He sat next to me. "Your father wasn't dead. It's only then you can attain his gift."

But I don't feel any more powerful. "Do you believe I'm powerful enough to face up to him?"

"Only time will tell."

That discussion didn't make me feel much better, but it helped me decide what to do. I had to at least try to stop Kilgharrah. If Arthur went out there and I didn't go with him, he probably would be killed. Kilgharrah had already wounded the Prince. I doubted he'd stop there again. I thought I'd known the dragon, but I was wrong.

Time passed quickly after that. Gaius and I talked a bit more while I helped him with his remedy-making. Soon it was time for me to go help Arthur. I stood up to leave and Gaius looked at my expression.

"You're going with him, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," I replied. "Don't try to stop me."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I just wanted to tell you I believe in you. And, good luck."

I gazed back at him for a moment. Then I nodded and said, "Thank you," and left.

I walked up to Arthur's chambers slowly. I wasn't in a hurry to die, and I didn't think he'd mind. He probably wasn't in a hurry to die either.

When I got there, he wasn't there. Looks like I was right. That thought didn't console me as much as it should have. I went to the window to try to clear my mind, but I failed utterly. My mind circled back to the same thought that had been plaguing me all day, and I had to fight with my emotions again. I couldn't afford this now!

Finally Arthur came in and interrupted my maddening thoughts. He gestured for me to help him put on his armor. As if he could sense my mood and unwillingness to talk, he started a conversation.

"Well, look on the bright side, Merlin. Odds are you won't have to polish this again." Of course he'd try to lighten my mood—he's never dealt well with emotions.

I didn't take his bait. "You need to be cautious today. Don't force the fight," I replied.

"Yes, Sire!" Ugh.

"I'm being sincere."

"I can tell."

I sighed mentally. He didn't want to be serious. "Let things happen naturally."

"Merlin, if I die, please . . ." Was I getting through?

"What?"

He turned around to look at me. "The dragonlord this morning. . . I noticed you." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Something I tell all my new knights: no man is worth your tears." Did he just say that? He might as well have knifed me in the back—it felt the same. But he had no idea, and couldn't. I still felt myself fighting back tears though.

Time to pretend again. "Yeah. You're definitely not." I was finished with his armor, so he picked up a sword from the table. I did the same. He turned and gave me a puzzled look.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going with you."

"Merlin, odds are I'll die tonight."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe you would if I didn't come."

He scoffed. "Right."

"You don't know how often I've had to save your royal backside." He'd never believe me, even if I had counted.

"Well you have your sense of humor back at least." Yeah, I guess I do. He just seems to bring it out in me. He swiped my sword out of his way and headed toward the door. I followed him so he stopped again, incredulous. "You're actually going to fight this dragon with me?"

"I won't just stand here and watch. It must be difficult for you to understand how I feel, but . . . well, I care a hell of a lot about that armor, I won't let you muck it up." I had been going to say something more serious, but he didn't need that right now. So we laughed, he gave me a friendly hit on the arm and we left. Just like that.

.

It was after sunset when we reached the clearing Arthur had had in mind. We waited for Kilgharrah; he finally showed up after moonrise. The horses pranced nervously, and some of the knights murmured.

"Hold steady," Arthur called out. Kilgharrah chose that moment to swoop down at us. "Hold! Hold! Hold! Now!" He landed and we circled our horses in formation to surround Kilgharrah. The dragon knocked me, Arthur and few other knights off of their horses with his tail. Then he turned and roasted some other knights.

I got to my feet and yelled, "No. Stop!" Kilgharrah turned toward me and Arthur, who picked up a spear. Kilgharrah contemplated Arthur like Arthur would contemplate a bug. It lasted just a moment and then he tried to flambé the Prince. Arthur rolled out of the way and stabbed Kilgharrah on the left side. He roared furiously and knocked Arthur unconscious. I got up and slowly walked toward Kilgharrah. If this gift was going to work, now would be a good time.

I tried to concentrate, to figure out where this power was in me, and I heard my father's voice in my head. "You're the last dragonlord now. You're the only one with the ancient gift. Hidden inside yourself, you need to find the voice that you share with Kilgharrah; your soul and his are brothers. When you talk to him as kin, he has to follow your command."

I did as he suggested and found something . . . I opened my mouth and just spoke. "Dracan! Nán dyd ǽlc áciere miss! Eftsíðas eom álacræt! Géate' stǽr ábære gárrǽs! Géate cyre. Mé tácen átendediegollice. Car grise áþes." I didn't understand anything I said, but at the same time, I understood everything I said.

Kilgharrah settled back and bowed to me. It worked! I was relieved but also angry. I picked up the spear Arthur had dropped. His eyes followed my movement; he actually looked afraid of me. Good.

"I am the only one of my race, Merlin. Whatever sins I have committed, do not hold me accountable for the death of my worthy breed." I brandished the spear into the air near him. He winced. That was good- he would listen and he would do as I said. All those deaths and all that destruction . . . he should answer for it. But that kinship deep inside me balked at that idea. He was the last dragon; if he died there would be no more. That would open a hole inside me that I'd never be able to fill. That and the guilt would haunt me for the rest of my life.

He seemed surprised when I didn't do anything with the spear. "Go! Leave! If you ever harm Camelot again, I will end you!" Kilgharrah bowed again. I dropped the spear, but I wasn't done yet. "I have given you mercy! Now you have to do the same to others!"

"Young warlock, what you have given is what you will be. I will remember your clemency. I'm certain our paths will cross again." He flew off and I could finally breathe. Or cry. Of course Arthur chose that moment to wake up. I turned to look at him.

"What happened?" he asked. Ugh. I had to come up with a rational explanation on the fly. Again, as usual.

"You gave him a mortal wound."

"He's gone?"

"Yeah. You did it."

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" He laughed maniacally for a while. He deserved it.

I laughed with him; what else could I do? "You did it."

We looked around the clearing; everyone else was either dead or unconscious. We stopped to check who was what; a few were alive. I surreptitiously healed those I could; they'd be able to walk home. The King needed to be told so the mending of hearts and homes could begin.

All the horses were either roasted or had run away, so we had no option but to walk. We got to the drawbridge without further incident. I suspect the lookout spotted us and sent word ahead, because Gwen came flying at us and went straight to Arthur. She threw her arms around him tightly. Gaius was right behind her. Gwen whispered something to Arthur that I didn't hear, because Gaius was upon me.

For a man who wasn't used to close contact, Gaius sure hugged me tightly. "My boy," he said, a bit more fondly than usual. Arthur and Gwen left, so I could speak freely to Gaius.

"I sensed him there with me, Gaius," I told him.

"He'll be with you forever." He didn't even ask what I meant. That was one of the many things I loved about him.

"I hope so.

"Merlin, I know I can't ever equal your father, but for what it's worth, you still have me."

"Well, I guess I'll simply have to make do.

He just laughed, clapped me on the back and led me back to our chambers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- I've been wildly curious about what our hero said to the dragon here, and then I found the Merlin Wiki. Woo! They have it in the "original" ancient Greek (-ish) with the Greek alphabet. Pretty cool. In this fic I used the transliterated (phonetic) version from the transcript. They also have an Old English version and a (roughly) translated modern English version (rough, because many Old English words have multiple meanings and multiple words can have the same meaning. It gets confusing). So I thought I'd toss the Modern English in here, in case anyone else has no clue, like I did: Dragon, I command you to stop this reign of terror. You have caused enough pain and suffering to these people. You must obey me and follow my will. For I have you under my power. You shall no longer bring death and destruction to this land.


	6. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was pretty fun for me to write- I have 2 teenage boys and I know what it's like to get them to share what's on their minds. I "just" had to put myself in Hunith's situation. I also got a bit of inspiration from Ordinary World byKiva Taliana. It's a very good fic that I enjoyed a lot. :)

Pt. 3, Mother and Son

Hunith paused in her work to wipe her brow. Harrowing her garden for the winter wasn't as easy as it used to be, but it was just as satisfying. The village would have enough food for the winter, and she was proud of her role in that.

Just then, she heard footsteps coming toward her from the side of her house. A young voice called out, "Hunith! Someone's coming up the road to visit you, I think." It was Mary, her neighbor's daughter, who sometimes helped Hunith around the house.

Who could it be? She wasn't expecting anyone anytime soon. "Who is it?" she asked.

"That's a surprise," Mary replied with a giggle. "You'll have to go see."

"All right." Hunith laid her tool against the side of her house and walked around to the front with Mary. Of course she'd go see who was coming. Mary wasn't one to play pranks, so Hunith believed her.

"I'll just leave you here, Hunith. See you later!" Mary said mysteriously and ran off.

Hunith stood on the side of the road, arms folded, waiting for the visitor to show. Mary must have run back from where she met him or her, or Hunith's eyes were getting bad. She couldn't see anyone yet.

She'd started to think Mary had played a prank on her when she saw something. A tall figure with a dark head—it couldn't be. She began walking forward quickly, eager to make certain. It was him. She hadn't seen him in over a year; his last letter had him busy, saving Camelot and hurting from a loss. What would be enough to bring Merlin home now?

He was walking slowly, for him. And he didn't look up even though he must have heard her footsteps by now. She stopped a few feet away and said, "Merlin."

Merlin looked up then and gave her a small smile. "Mother," he said simply. The smile didn't go all the way to his eyes. And in those eyes she saw more hurt than she'd ever seen there before.

She threw her arms around her son and said, "Welcome home." He hugged her back for a while. When they broke apart, she looped her arm around his and started walking. "Do you want to talk about it?"she asked.

"I-I can't. Not yet," he replied. So they walked in silence all the way back home. Once inside, she helped him take off his pack and pushed him into a chair at the table. "Mum!" he complained, finally showing some of his usual self.

"You sit there and don't complain. It looks like you've been on your feet for two days solid. Rest."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, contrite. She could see that he was starting to relax here, in his old home. She smiled.

He still seemed unwilling to talk, which was uncharacteristic for him. So Hunith went about preparing dinner, contemplating what might be on his mind. The last two years had worn away most of his innocence and naïveté. But his innate goodness was still present and always would be. It seemed a bit clouded over today, and she was going to find out what had done that.

"How is Camelot?" she asked.

"Recovering," he replied.

"Recovering? From what?"

"Long story."

"Well, how long are you staying?"

"A week or so." So he hadn't been found out and banished, not if he was going back.

"That's great! It ought to be enough time to hear that long story then."

"Mum," he complained.

"All right, all right. I'll wait until you're ready."

"Thanks." He went back to brooding. It seemed wrong for him, but then again, she didn't know what horrors he'd experienced that led him here.

Hunith finished preparing dinner in silence. When she finished, she placed the chicken and bread on two plates and took them to the table. After she put the plates down, she sat down and they began to eat. Every now and then she glanced at him, but he seemed determined to avoid her gaze. When she asked him questions, he answered in short phrases. So she sat back to wait for her boy to open up.

.

The next morning Merlin looked much better. Not so worn. He talked a bit more, but still refused to talk about what happened in Camelot. He'll talk when he's ready, Hunith kept repeating to herself. In the meantime, she put him to work. Both at home and in the community. They could always use an extra set of hands, magical or not.

By dinner time, the air outside had cooled off significantly. Everyone went home for the day. This time Merlin insisted on helping his mother prepare dinner. He chattered on about things- people and places, but avoided talking about certain people who'd been frequent subjects before.

They ate dinner in the same manner, mainly talking about trivial matters and life in Ealdor. After they finished, they cleaned up at leisure and sat by the fire to while away the evening. Merlin stared into the fire for a bit before Hunith saw resolve come into his eyes. He was finally ready to unburden himself.

"It's all my fault—I let him go, Mum," he said.

"Who, son?" she replied.

"The dragon that lived under Camelot. I promised I'd free him in exchange for information to save Camelot." He paused for a moment. "Oh Mum, I swore on your life to free him, I'm so sorry." She saw his eyes tear up—so sensitive, her boy.

"Oh Merlin, I forgive you. Camelot was saved, right?" He nodded. "And I'm right here, healthy and whole."

"You are, yes. But I paid in other ways. To save Camelot, I had to kill someone I care about. And now she's gone and I don't know if she's alive or dead." Tears began to leak from his eyes. She took his hand.

"Merlin, who was it? Gwen? Morgana?"

"Morgana. Her sister took her. I hope she saved her. But not knowing is awful. And then the dragon. Oh that vile lizard!" His tears dried up as anger quickly took its place. "He helped me save Camelot all right, but after I freed him, he turned around and attacked it!"

"Oh my . . . Why would he do that?"

"Think about it Mum. Uther had him chained up down there for over twenty years. All of his kin had been murdered, and he felt every single death. He was very angry. Angry enough to get at Uther through his people. He hit the King right where it hurt. And many innocent people died. Too bad he didn't get Uther," he said bitterly. A memory tickled at the back of Hunith's mind.

"Merlin, do you sympathize with the dragon? He killed . . ."

"His name is Kilgharrah. And I hate that he killed. But now I understand how he feels."

That memory of Hunith's came roaring to the front of her mind. "You know. You met him."

"Yes, I met my father. The one you never talked about. The one you told Gaius to keep from me. But I'll get to that in a minute.

"Uther and Arthur fought Kilgharrah in vain. In desperation, Gaius finally told them about how the last dragonlord wasn't dead. That Balinor was probably alive and could be found and maybe persuaded to help them. Us. So Arthur and I set out to find him."

"That must have been quite the journey. Clearly you found him."

"Oh yes, we found him. He healed an injury of Arthur's. But he was the most bitter, angry man I've ever met. He refused to come back to Camelot with us."

"That doesn't sound like the man I knew. But after all he's been forced to endure . . ."

"He told me all about that. But neither Arthur nor I could change his mind. So we left and headed back to Camelot."

"He must have been so hurt, so angry."

"I'm not done yet." Here Merlin smiled, actually smiled his usual grin. "Before Arthur and I could even cook dinner that evening, he showed up in our camp. He and I talked . . . I told him then I was his son." He teared up again. "It was kind of funny; neither of us knew how to be father and son, but we just kind of figured it out. We talked a bit more after Arthur went to sleep. He told me it was time I became a dragonlord. This whole beautiful future opened up in front of me." His face fell again.

"What happened, Merlin? Why . . . What caused the light to fade from your eyes?" She scooted closer to him and put her hand on that beloved face. "Tell me," she said quietly.

He looked up at her again. "The next morning, a group of Cenred's men attacked us. We fought them, but one lunged at me and . . . Father stepped in his way," he stopped to choke back a sob. His tears flowed freely now.

Hunith threw both arms around him and just held him. It took him more than a few minutes to get it all out. Most likely he'd had to hold all this in for the last few days. It's not like he could tell anyone about his relationship to the dragonlord. If Uther'd wanted Balinor dead twenty years ago he certainly wouldn't want him or his son alive any longer than he needed them to be.

Finally Merlin calmed enough to talk again. "H-he took the sword for me. I yelled at the soldier and he flew back against a tree and died. Father told me I had his talent." He half-laughed, half-sobbed at that. "But I-I couldn't save him, Mum. H-he died in my arms." He shivered like he was going to start crying again, but didn't.

It was Hunith's turn to tear up. "Oh, my boy. All these years I've wondered what happened to him. Where did he go? What did he do? Would he ever meet you? Those questions have haunted me all this time. And now he's gone. I'll never see him again. But at least he's free." She broke down then, losing herself in the sorrow she'd been repressing since Merlin's birth.

He put his arms around her and they held each other in mutual sorrow for a few minutes. She finally gained some control over herself and pressed him to continue his story. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. It doesn't get any worse than that, does it?" she replied. He shook his head then continued.

"After we buried him, we returned to Camelot to give the bad news to the King. Arthur decided then to find a large space to fight the dragon in, and gathered a bunch of knights to join him. A last stand to kill the dragon or die trying."

"Goodness! What did you do?"

"Well, I had to join him, of course. I went to my room to prepare. Gaius found me there. I was, um, emotional. I confessed that I didn't know what to do. The last time I'd confronted Kilgharrah, I'd tried to use magic to stop him and it hadn't worked."

"Because your father wasn't dead then. It's also a different kind of magic."

"How did you . . ? Oh, he told you. Well, after Gaius told me that, I knew there was nothing else to do but try it. So I went with Arthur. He tried to talk me out of it, but I knew I had to go. I couldn't live with myself, or at all really, if he died. And Kilgharrah was so angry, he probably would have killed him, destiny be damned."

"Merlin!"

"Sorry. But we went out to face Kilgharrah and didn't have to wait long. He knocked half of us off our horses right away, and burned the other half. Arthur stuck a spear in him, but the dragon knocked him out. I was the only one still conscious. I looked up at him, and it just came to me, Mum. I heard Father's voice in my mind. He told me what to do, and I just did it."

"Oh, Merlin." She took his hands again. He seemed in awe now.

"I just started speaking to him, in the dragon tongue. It was the most amazing thing! I told him off, I threatened him and I made him swear not to attack Camelot ever again. Mum, I can order him around now! He can't tell me what to do anymore!" He laughed in relieved amazement.

"Merlin . . . Don't let it go to your head. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. How many times . . ."

"Mum, I know. I'm sure the novelty will wear off soon. If I think about it too much, it terrifies me. I'm the last dragonlord now. I have new responsibilities, and I feel so much more now. That's why I feel for Kilgharrah now. Just like my father did."

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes before Hunith asked, "What happened to Arthur?"

"Oh, he's fine. Laughed like a maniac when I told him he'd mortally wounded the big, bad dragon. Kilgharrah had flown away before he woke, not mortally wounded. Arthur'll never know. Most of the other knights died though. But I can't help that."

"Wow. I just don't know what else to say."

"There really isn't anything else to say. After we got back to Camelot, we slept for about half a day." He laughed at this. "I helped clean up the mess I'd made—" Hunith made a noise to protest, but he cut her off. "No, Mum, it was my mess. I don't know if I'll ever lose the guilt from the death and destruction I caused. That kept me busy for a couple of days, then this crushing depression set in. Gaius suggested I ask Arthur for a few days off. He must have talked to Arthur before I did, because when I asked him, he gave in way too easily. So here I am."

"Here you are," she agreed, and threw her arms around him again.

"Maybe I should get depressed and come home more often. I get more hugs this way," he joked. She let him go and smacked his arm. Then they broke down into laughter for a few minutes.

After she calmed down, she said, "Don't ever get depressed again. You scared me."

He sobered quickly at that. "I can't promise that. I can't see the future." He shuddered at that thought; his experience with that crystal had cured him of any desire to do that. "But I need to know—why didn't you tell me about my father?"

"Oh Merlin," she said, and her face fell. "I-I . . ."

"I'm not angry, Mum, but I need to hear your half of the story. Gaius told me some and Father told me some. But I still feel like I know next to nothing."

"All right, Merlin. I'll tell you. There's no use keeping it from you anymore. You deserve to know.

"Balinor came here after he'd run from Camelot. He'd been injured pretty badly. I found him. Since I basically worked as the village healer then, I brought him here, my home."

"That probably started some rumors."

"Yes, but not until he was healed. One of his injuries was in his leg, so he was abed for a while. Longer than he wanted to be, that's for sure." She chuckled a bit. "While he recovered, we talked a lot. He told me all about being a dragonlord. The things he'd done . . . amazing. I told him all about my life, up to that point. When he was well enough to try walking, a friend of ours- Will's dad, in fact -brought him a branch which he carved into a walking stick." She nodded to a corner where said stick stood.

Merlin had asked about it more than once; now he knew. "Oh that reminds me," he said, then stood and walked to his pack. He rummaged around in it for a minute before proclaiming, "Ah ha!" and pulled out a small carving. He brought it over and handed it to her.

"Oh! It's a dragon. Did he . . ?"

"Yes, he carved this while we talked that second night." He let her hold and examine it, but it would go back to Camelot with him, she knew. "Please continue Mum."

"After he could walk around, he started helping me around the house and outside it. He did even more when he could walk unaided. He helped the village a lot that season, and me too." She blushed but continued. "Spending a lot of time together, we naturally grew closer. He also made friends with a lot of the villagers, especially Will's parents. Actually, he helped me with Will's birth." She smiled.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. He said hatching dragons was different from birthing babies, but caring for babies was a lot like caring for baby dragons. And we did get to look after Will a bit. After the birth, Balinor moved out into the shed to sleep. It didn't look proper for him to sleep in here anymore. And he'd fixed up the shed for just that purpose.

"It was Will's parents who finally got us to see how we'd come to feel about each other. We were both so stubborn."

"'Were?'" Merlin interjected.

Hunith laughed. "Okay, I'm still stubborn. You get it from both of us."

"Hey!" He exclaimed in mock offense.

"Oh shush. Anyway, we finally realized we were in love. It hadn't taken us very long to get there. He was amazing- strong, intelligent, talented, kind, gentle . . . I could go on. By some miracle, he found in me his match. We decided to get married.

"Before that, a stranger came through here on the way to Camelot. Your father panicked a bit at that, but I calmed him down. The day the man left, we were at work, bringing in the harvest. I fell out of an apple tree, and he picked me up and brought me back here. I was unconscious and had a bump on my head, nothing worse. He healed me.

"I was fine after he healed me. We . . . kissed for a while after that. Then our emotions ran so high . . . He was giddy with relief and I was so happy to be alive that we . . . got carried away in the moment. We'd wanted to do things properly and wait for marriage, but . . ."

Merlin covered his ears. "Say no more! I don't want to hear it! You told me enough when you gave me the talk."

"All right. Suffice it to say nothing held us back after that. We didn't spend every night together, but enough." She blushed again. "One night when we slept separately, he had a 'prophetic' dream. Much like you told me Morgana suffers from." He winced at her name.

His face fell again. "What did he see?"

"He saw Ealdor destroyed, burning. He saw people dying . . . He saw me die. It was all done by knights of Camelot. He saw himself surrender to them." She paused for a moment. "He felt that he was the cause of this, that something he did or didn't do brought it to pass.

"That same day, knights of Camelot rode into Ealdor. I asked Will's parents to help, to find out what the knights wanted. I came back here and we prepared for the worst. His departure. Eventually Will's father came back here and told us what we'd dreaded—the knights were after Balinor. That man had reported him." She started to feel that pain again, the one she'd felt when her love had walked out her door—utter despair and hopelessness.

Merlin saw the change in her demeanor, and immediately moved closer to take her hands. "Mum, it's late. We can continue this tomorrow."

"No, I'm all right." She laughed wetly. "I somehow forgot how much that hurt. So we said our goodbyes and he walked out that door," she pointed at the back door, "and was gone. I held onto the slimmest glimmer of hope that I'd see him again, but no more." She sighed. "For a few weeks I was almost inconsolable. Friends came to help and watch over me.

"After a while, I came out of it. Slowly. I'd started feeling sick. Will's mother came to visit one morning, saw how I looked and how I was acting. She put two and two together and suggested I visit the midwife in the next village. I did, and received the best news of my life." She smiled brightly at him, and he returned it equally as brightly.

She continued. "You brought me out of my lingering depression. Once the morning sickness cleared up, that is." He gave her a mock indignant look, but let her continue. "People were so generous to me. They could have turned their backs on me, but they didn't. There were a few who did, and you can guess who they are. But my life changed for the better then. And the day you were born was one of the strangest, but definitely the best, days of my life."

"How did you know I needed to hear that?" he asked.

"Oh, I didn't plan that. It's the truth. And I'm a wonderful mother." She flashed him a cheesy grin.

"Yeah you are."

"Well this wonderful mother is tired. And I know you need all the rest you can get. The Prince may be your friend, but he still works you too hard."

"Well I've got to stay around him somehow. This job was probably always destined for me."

"I wouldn't doubt it. Crazy destiny." They both got up and made their way to their beds. Their sleep that night was particularly sweet and trouble-free.

.

For the rest of Merlin's visit, he continued helping Hunith and the village at large prepare for winter. Every now and then, one would remember a detail they'd left out of their story, and tell the other. Then, the afternoon before he was to leave, Merlin had an idea.

When they got home for the evening, he asked her. "Mum, would you like to meet the source of all our joy and pain?"

"Merlin, what on earth are you talking about?" she replied.

"Kilgharrah. Would you like to meet him? He is responsible, indirectly, for our joy and our pain. Without him, Father wouldn't have gone to Camelot or met you. And I wouldn't be here either. See?"

"You have the strangest thoughts sometimes. But wouldn't it be dangerous?"

"For him, maybe. But we'll go at night so no one will see him. And we can go into the woods. I think I know of a clearing big enough to fit him."

"He won't hurt us?"

"Mum, I command him, remember? He can't hurt me, and even if he wanted to hurt you, I'd order him not to. Nobody eats my mum." He grinned at her.

"All right. I have to admit, it's a pretty amazing opportunity, to meet what you and your father have talked about. Especially after all this time."

He took her hand. "It'll be worth it. This'll actually be the first time I've talked to him since I almost had to kill him. It should be interesting. We'll wait a bit longer though; just to be sure everyone's asleep. Don't want to start a panic."

They sat and chatted for a couple more hours. Merlin poked his head out the front door and saw no lights in the village. "We're good to go," he told her, and they went out the back door. They didn't have to hike too far into the woods, but he still conjured a light so they could see.

"You know so much more now. And much better control," Hunith commented.

"Thanks to Gaius. And the magic book he gave me. It's a relief, honestly. But as he would say, I'm still a work in progress," he replied.

"I think we all are."

Shortly thereafter, they walked into the clearing. Merlin banished the light. "Now don't be alarmed. The dragon tongue is kind of . . . intimidating. Okay, it's freaky. I nearly scared myself the first time."

He walked a little way from her, then sort of reached inside himself for the words to summon Kilgharrah. When he spoke them, Hunith had to take a couple of steps back. "Intimidating" was an understatement. If it hadn't been Merlin, she probably would have run away screaming.

He turned around and saw the freaked out look on her face. "Oh, Mum, I'm sorry. There's not anything I can do to make that warm and fuzzy though. But if that worked out all right, I shouldn't have to speak it anymore tonight."

That greatly eased her mind. "I'm all right son. But I won't miss it. You weren't joking though. The things I endure for you," she teased.

"Hey!"

"When will he get here? I mean, he didn't just pop in out of thin air."

"No Mum," he rolled his eyes affectionately. "He has to fly. But he flies really fast, so it should be any minute now." Just then they heard the beat of wings against the cool night air. "Great timing," Merlin joked.

Kilgharrah circled for a minute before he dived to land. Hunith stared at him for a moment, in shock, but Merlin took her hand and walked a couple of steps toward the huge dragon.

"Young warlock, I see you have brought me a visitor. Is that why you have summoned me?" the dragon asked.

"Indeed. That, and to make sure there are no ill feelings between us," Merlin replied.

"None on my part."

"Nor on mine. I may forgive you yet." He smiled.

Hunith was dumbstruck. Her baby boy talked to this huge, frightening dragon like he talked to any old friend. This was amazing, in a scary way.

Kilgharrah startled her from her thoughts. He'd lowered his head a bit to get a closer look at her. "You must be Merlin's mother. I sense you are alike, in body and soul."

Hunith was too awestruck to say anything back right away. Merlin chuckled and took over. "Kilgharrah, this is my mother, Hunith. Mother, this is Kilgharrah, also known as the Great Dragon."

She swallowed back her fear and awe. "It-it's good to meet you. Merlin has told me much about you, and Balinor before him."

"Ah yes, Balinor. I'm so very sorry for his loss, to both of you. I felt it keenly. But it was a necessary loss, I'm afraid."

"What?!" Hunith said the same time Merlin said, "'Necessary loss?!'" She let him continue; he was the one with the power over dragons. "What do you mean, 'necessary?'"

"There was no other way for you to fully realize your heritage."

"What?! Are you sure you didn't want to punish him for his role in your capture? Because he was manipulated into doing that, and you know it!" He was quite angry now; Hunith squeezed his hand in an attempt to calm him.

She stepped forward a bit. "Do you have any idea of the guilt Merlin carries with him? All those people you killed in Camelot? He feels responsible for them because he let you go! You manipulated him into that, and how did you repay him? He had to kill his friend and watch you kill others! How dare you?! Just be silent, you overgrown lizard!"

Kilgharrah wanted to respond to that, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he found he couldn't. It seemed that the mate and mother of the two dragonlords had some power over him. Unusual.

Kilgharrah had once again underestimated the strength of human emotions. And the young one could actually end him. He finally shook off Hunith's strange hold over him. "Merlin—yes, I know Uther deceived him. And no, I never wanted to punish him. I knew there was only one way you would develop the strength to do what you must in the future. I regret that it cost your father his life.

"I have felt his pain over the years. He had almost lost himself in it when you arrived. You saved him as surely as he saved you. He passed from this life with no regrets." He paused and Merlin looked closer at him. He'd never seen the dragon look so . . . vulnerable? "Surely you can take some small consolation in this?"

"We can, Kilgharrah," Hunith said. Merlin remained silent, but his face and his mood had softened.

"Merlin, you will also need the power and aid I can provide you. Your inherited gift assures you of that. Feel it in you. You only need call and I will come."

Merlin had closed his eyes, but said, "I know, old friend."

"Is there anything else you require, young warlock?"

"No, thank you Kilgharrah. I just wanted my mother to meet you." He smiled cheekily. "Since you are responsible for creating my family." He put his arm around Hunith.

It was the dragon's turn to be taken aback. "What? I am not . . ."

"Think about it, Kilgharrah. If it hadn't been for you, my father wouldn't have gone to Camelot. Then he wouldn't have come here, met my mother, and . . ."

Kilgharrah cut him off. "I understand now, Merlin. Please don't continue that line of thought. Though I do see your reasoning. It's somewhat flawed, but true nonetheless." He gave them a sort of grin, though it came off as somewhat menacing.

Hunith yawned. Merlin noticed and turned back to the dragon. "It's time we retired. Kilgharrah, thank you for coming."

The dragon bowed and said, "Farewell, young warlock. Be at peace. Until next time." With a mighty flap of his wings, he rose into the air and flew away.

"Well that didn't go as planned," Merlin commented.

"You have got to be joking," Hunith replied. She rolled her eyes at him.

"C'mon Mum, let's go get some sleep." He turned her using his arm around her, conjured his light again and led her home.


End file.
